Horizons
by Lady.Bronte
Summary: "And just beyond the last island of their archipelago, the isle perfectly situated due west, a black blur could be seen moving farther and farther away as she watched in perfect horror. He was already gone." A character study in three arcs.
1. Becoming Urðr

Hey guys! I posted this just as I said I would and I am so excited! I've always wanted to write a kind of bildungsroman and I think I've actually managed to achieve it! I can't wait to read your responses to what will soon be a monster of a story, as long as I receive enough reviews and favourites to feel it worthwhile to continue posting on ffnet.

This is going to be a three arc novella of sorts, following both Hiccup and Astrid after the events covered in the _Horizons_ series. It isn't exactly necessary to read those four short stories before reading this, however it would certainly be worthwhile from a comprehension standpoint, especially at the beginning. To be clear, this story is INCOMPLETE. I've only written the first arc out of three and it consists of five chapters, weighing in at about +/- 24,000 words. Needless to say, this thing is a monster.

Trust me when I say that I did a mother-load of research before getting the first arc completed; I really concentrated on the psyche of a lower-limb amputee, especially the self-esteem and body image issues. I especially wanted to focus on Hiccup's tumultuous rehabilitation, particularly because he's such a complex and complicated character; my muse told me that Hiccup would take his handicap pretty poorly and I dutifully obeyed him.

And I also did a major exploration of Norse mythology which was super interesting. While I will provide you with a boat-load of information in later chapters, I suggest that you look some of it up yourself. If you're a fan of Ancient Greek mythology, then you will certainly be enthralled by this!

Finally, I would like to thank my previous readers and urge my new readers to review or message me; as some of you know, I will not continue posting my stories if it looks to me as if no one likes it enough to review it. I write for me and me only; the best kind of writing is the kind that is entirely selfish and self-fulfilling. I write for myself and my friends and if my readers here don't provide me with any reason to continue I'll probably put this on hiatus, which is unfortunate but nevertheless an accurate depiction of what will happen. So please, if you enjoyed this chapter (or didn't) and wish to see more, drop me a line and I'll be sure to reply!

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc I : Becoming Urðr**_

_Chapter I_**

* * *

**

The next morning was just as bad.

The exhaustion in his limbs and in his body was more than enough to keep the young Viking at bay. His eyes refused to open as he fought to keep himself awake, his head swimming with vertigo. Even his constant shadow chose not to disturb him as his rider grappled for consciousness, the onyx dragon watching plaintively from the other side of the room with his discerning eyes. The boy breathed out raggedly and brought his teeth down upon his lower lip, his biting hunger rapidly forgotten as he tried to steel himself against the sharp throb of a limb that was no longer there.

His head hurt more than he could comprehend, like something akin to a terrible hangover. He knew for a fact that he hadn't consumed a drop of alcohol the night prior, despite the great feast that had been held in honour of his revival. In fact, he didn't even remember returning to his house after slipping from the candlelight of the Great Hall and being pursued…

He smiled knowingly.

_Astrid_.

With that thought in mind, he managed to find the inspiration to push himself semi upright, propping one of his elbows beneath his thin body before inevitably collapsing onto his side. He inwardly cursed at himself, his absence of strength stirring more feelings of fear within his heart than he was willing to admit. He had never been very sturdy to begin with, being nothing more than gangly skin and bone, but at least he had been strong enough to drag himself out of bed every morning and not be out of breath. He grimaced and tried to wrench himself out of bed again, sliding his functioning foot off of the wooden base so that it dangled limply over the floor.

He swallowed, considering the situation to be highly ironic.

He braced himself on his elbow once again and stopped there for a moment, finding his strength as he locked eyes with the dark, agile creature some ten feet away. The dragon was watching curiously now as his rider found his bearings, the Night Fury's ear plates raised in unease. He dipped his scaly head to the side, considering whether or not to go over and help the boy; the dragon was nearly halfway to his feet when his rider tossed him a look that could only be described as bitterly loathsome and Toothless quickly conceded to letting the stubborn hatchling fall on his face without him.

Hiccup was convinced that every one of his muscles was working against him, pulling him back into that same prone position where he had spent so many days before. The boy was determined now to get to his feet and at least drag himself to the hearth, if not out the door. His stomach was making snarling noises like a devilish creature and if he hadn't been so starved he would have assumed he had swallowed a bad-tempered Terror whole.

He finally managed to swing his bad foot over the ledge of his bed and for a moment he seriously contemplated crawling on all fours over to the smouldering fire in the middle of his lodge. Though one thought of the embarrassment he would feel should his father walk in was enough to make him quickly change his mind. He reached over with his dominant hand and grasped at the wooden bed post closest to him, pulling himself upright with all the force he could muster. He bit back the feelings of nausea as the pain in his non-existent leg intensified, hoisting himself up onto his good foot and balancing precariously as he fought the insistent sting.

Toothless finally rose from his perch and ventured closer to the boy, sensing the abrupt change in his rider's demeanour. Beads of sweat began to form on the boy's brow and upper lip, the smell of salt stinging the air. The dragon nudged him gently over and over again until he broke the young boy from his laboured reverie, at long last drawing his attention and helping him over to the hearth. The forlorn look in his rider's eyes was more than a little unnerving for him and the Night Fury fought to keep the boy's attention as he sat. He gestured his great head towards the pot of simmering stew more than once and finally the boy took the time to feed himself, taking care to stay off of his bad foot as he did so.

The morning continued on in silence, the young Viking often forgetting he was eating at all. Toothless found himself having to continuously nudge his elbow, waking him from whatever lucid dream he had been lost in moments before. The hatchling's carelessness was beginning to worry him and the dragon wasn't sure how else to help.

It was the great body of Stoic the Vast that successfully tore Hiccup from his catatonic contemplation, bursting through the door like the huge lumbering man that he was. The village Chief smiled warmly at the sight of his son wide awake and went to clap him heartily on the shoulder. He stopped himself just in time – Hiccup, who had been unconsciously cowering away from his father's meaty hand, pried open one of his tightly shut eyes and let out a sigh of relief when he saw that the man was already busying himself a few metres away, ladling out stew.

Never one for small talk, Stoic the Vast sat opposite of his teenage son and ate his stew in silence, content for once to be in the serene company of his cognisant son. The young Viking, though puzzled, made no comment on his father's unusually sunny demeanour and kept his silence, satisfied with the comfortable quiet of the lodge.

Hiccup quickly finished his stew and pushed himself off of the wooden chair as best he could, stumbling all the while. He fought to keep the pain from reaching his face with remarkable tenacity, and for the most part he was able to conceal his grief from his father. After all, the Chieftain had just begun to accept him, which certainly had required some sort of divine intervention from Frigg herself. Hiccup was more than convinced that something was going to go horribly wrong as it always did when he was out and about, being the unfortunate curse upon the village that he was.

And now look at him.

Bidding his father an acknowledged farewell was like the taste of some exotic fruit pressed to his lips; it was a strange sensation, albeit not entirely unpleasant. His father smiled kindly in reply and Hiccup wasn't sure why it felt like his heart had just leapt into his throat but it did and he didn't know what to make of it. As he staggered towards the doors of his lodge he realized it might have had something to do with that fact that it had never happened before.

His dragon followed him out the exit, crooning unhappily at his rider's forlorn expression. Though neither could understand each other's respective spoken language, the dragon and his crippled rider were more than compatible in other ways of communication. They worked together seamlessly like some well-oiled machine, complimenting each other in a way that neither of them could fully understand. But the others took notice of course, commenting from afar on the way they fell into stride with each other, their handicaps corresponding harmoniously. Hiccup barely took notice of their stares as they quickly made their way out of the village, save that one damned word that struck out painfully like the very blade of Odin himself.

The footprints he left in the mud as he passed over the creek were awkwardly mismatched and they inspired a sort of phantom feeling to fall over him. It felt as if a ghostly hand had taken hold of his stomach and thrashed it about, leaving him with a sickening sensation akin to something far worse than nausea. He swallowed the queasiness it triggered and continued on out of the village, desperate to get away from the greetings and the garish voices that beckoned him nearer for a slap on the back. He ventured into the heavy brush of the forest, his loyal Night Fury dutifully at his side, and wanted nothing but to be hidden from their brutish smiles. The tack adorning the great beast flashed brilliantly in a burst of sunlight and, catching it out of the corner of his eye, the boy leapt on without warning, taking to the skies.

The leaves were beginning to turn as autumn set in across the island and Hiccup wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Would the dragons stay? Would they migrate past the Southern Islands? Would they even return? He glanced to his left and caught a glimpse of a gaggle of Nadders flying eastward, chattering and whistling noisily at each other. The dragons were bickering about who was to lead the formation and Hiccup couldn't help but smile despite himself, the oppressing fame of his heroics temporarily forgotten as they flew past the flock. He leant his body against his dragon's spine and scratched Toothless behind his ear plates, shaking his head and smiling – Nadders were implausibly and exceptionally vain, but at least they provided enough comic relief to placate the entire village.

The seamless match soared beyond the rocky crags of Berk on the other side of the island and drifted idly over the endless ocean, catching an errant updraft every so often. The sun was high above the horizon but Hiccup felt as if he could continue on until he reached the very end of the earth, flying beyond the great cascading waterfall into Hel and into the stars.

He wondered absently if anyone had really been to the end of the world at all.

He'd be the first, he decided. He'd be better off there anyway.

After a few hours they returned to their island, the perceptive dragon sensing his rider's imminent exhaustion. Hiccup's arms and legs felt as if they were made out of gelatine and the muscles in his torso burned with overuse. He groaned and shook his head, grinning half-heartedly at his smirking dragon – he was terribly out of shape.

They landed just out of reach of the village in an empty field, its sowed grains freshly reaped. He hopped off of his steed and immediately regretted it as he landed, his aching muscles and swollen stub screaming in protest. He ignored it as best he could, disregarding the knowing glances his constant shadow threw at him as he hobbled back into the village, biting his tongue all the while.

The first of the fallen leaves began to pepper the weather worn trails leading towards his lodge and the rest of the elite quartier, the crunch underfoot oddly satisfying beneath his soles.

Sole.

He refrained from looking downwards and kept walking.

Within minutes, the adorned roof of his home could be seen above the thinning trees and the young Viking quickened his pace slightly, unwilling to be intercepted. But with such an obtrusive shadow following his every move, the young Viking was quickly enveloped by a legion of eager villagers, all of them wanting a piece of their hero. He slapped on his typical façade and smiled weakly as they whacked him on the shoulder, guffawing and grinning at Hiccup the Useful, finally deserving of the title of the Chief's son. He was no longer the embarrassment of the tribe, something of which Hiccup was more than happy to accept. It was just the other things he had lost in the process that were entirely unwelcome.

It dawned on him for a moment that he was being tremendously selfish acting the way that he was, but the thought was immediately whisked away as one of the villagers ruffled his hair with his warrior paws and grinned lewdly:

"Some battle scar eh lad? Yeh be a man now, look at ye."

Those same words echoed over and over again in his ears as he laid in bed that night, the wooden cot finally rearranged back into the bedroom. So this is what it took to be a man? To lose half your leg? He rolled onto his side, his aching muscles forgotten as he seethed privately. _'What use am I if I can't even walk straight?'_ he thought bitterly to himself for the fourth time that night, drawing his good leg close to his chest. He wanted the stump as far away from him as he could manage.

As if he could forget it.

The next morning arrived earlier than he would have liked and after nearly throwing up most of his porridge Gobber strode in and manhandled him into the brisk autumn sun. The young Viking muttered something almost incomprehensible under his breath as the seasoned blacksmith led him towards the forge, the latter conveniently ignoring the newly handicapped teen's lethargic tendencies. Gobber was privy to the feeling, that blank canvas of verity as reality came crashing down. The older man could already see the signs of this, as did the Chieftain that had warned him privy. And if the words that had just slipped out of the teenager's mouth had not been enough proof, the look on his face certainly confirmed it. The only way to beat his depression was to keep him busy, even if it exhausted him to the point where he did nothing but sharpen swords and sleep until winter. After a season the transition would be easier and surrounded by his friends and family, perhaps it wouldn't affect him so bad.

Gobber looked over his shoulder at the boy, dragging his feet a few yards behind him.

Easy? Hiccup?

He snorted – not likely.

* * *

It had been three days since she had nearly kissed the life right back out of the boy into the wee hours of the morning, where she had been too caught up in her fumbling emotions to care. She had helped him home then, the boy too delirious with exhaustion to make it there himself, and then she had kissed him goodnight; the memories were still fresh in her mind.

But she hadn't seen him since.

She knew where he was of course, but that didn't really help her any. She was being kept busy by her mother as the tribe prepared for the onslaught of winter and she did what she could to stock supplies or weave linen or anything else that needed doing.

But she could honestly say that her heart wasn't in it. It was somewhere a little ways off, hammering steel and stitching tack within the fiery depths of the forge.

The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon and she quickly finished binding the last few threads of the half woven bedspread she had been painstakingly weaving all day. Her mother was nowhere in sight and she happily took advantage of such a rare opportunity, slipping out of the house and leaving her damned loom behind. Uncertain of her mother's whereabouts she made sure to keep to the shadows of Berk, entirely unwilling to be dragged home by the scruff of her collar after making it this far.

The echoes of metal against metal could be heard from the other side of the square and, from the absence of any other sound resonating from the forge, she was more than certain that it was the blacksmith's apprentice working within. One could often hear Gobber's thunderous bellowing from the other side of the village when he shaped weapons, which is why he usually left it to Hiccup these days. She didn't think the young rider really minded; he was a clever boy, and at least the monotony of steel against steel would keep him out of trouble.

On a good day.

She paused outside the forge, her hesitation unexpected; what would she say to him? She had never been one to plan for the future, no matter how near, but at the moment she felt awkwardly unprepared. She considered just marching in and winging it but her nervousness got the best of her and with an uncharacteristic but never the less violent punch at the closest semi-soft object, she ran off through the village without looking back.

She spotted her Nadder at the crest of one of the larger hills leading up past the village, sprawled out in the dying warmth of the sun. Only a few dragons remained outdoors as dusk quickly turned into nightfall and she wasn't at all surprised that her beast would still be seeking out the light. She was worried about what would happen when the first frost hit; would all the dragons leave for a warmer, more hospitable climate? What if they liked it down there better? Would they come back? She bit her lower lip absentmindedly as she approached her dragon and settled down beside her great head, smiling widely when one of her golden eyes riveted on her.

"Happy?"

The question was simple enough and she knew her dragon couldn't understand her words but when the Nadder stared back with an accusing look of comprehension, she couldn't help but feel two feet tall. The damned beast was far too observant and it unnerved her, never being one to wear her heart on her sleeve. Astrid sighed and got to her feet, rubbing the Nadder's nose in begrudging understanding; the dragon crooned shrewdly and jerked her head towards the village square.

Astrid grimaced, "Know it all."

She ignored the great beast as it puffed out its chest in inflated pride and simply rolled her eyes instead, taking off down the hill en route to her initial destination. She weaved to and fro between straggling villagers, eager to get home after a long day's work in the ships or at the shops. She ignored them, having only one goal in mind.

"ASTRID!"

She froze in her stride, skidding unceremoniously to a halt. She turned around slowly, carefully even, her eyes screwed shut as her mother's thunderous steps drew nearer and nearer.

"Astrid Hofferson! I asked you explicitly this morning to fill up the water barrels! I went to make stew not twenty minutes ago and the barrel was a dry as a bone!"

Ah yes, she had forgotten about that.

"Sorry mother," she conceded, taking the wooded bucket from her mother's accusatory fingers, heaving a defeated sigh.

"Be quick," she replied curtly, her tone sharp, "I'll not wait another minute and certainly not for that boy, Chief's son or not."

With a final glare, her mother retreated in the direction of her lodge. Astrid scowled furiously, staring daggers at those who had stopped to watch the Hofferson family spectacle in the middle of the square. She pursed her lips together and stomped towards the well, fuming the entire way. How dare her mother embarrass her in front of the whole village? And what did she mean by 'Chief's son or not'? Why was that even important? What did it matter? She barely restrained herself from chucking her bucket at the closest inanimate object and continued on, her anger never ebbing. It was beginning to get dark and she knew that as much as she would like to rebel against her mother and break into the forge to be with her…boyfriend, if that's what he could be called, she knew she wouldn't be able to because of the black.

She reached the pump and dropped the bucket dramatically, kicking it to keep it from falling sideways.

Hiccup would just have to wait.

* * *

And he did.

It was two weeks past the autumn equinox by the time the blonde warrior finally made it to the forge, gazing silently as a brooding boy she wasn't sure she recognized disappeared into one of the back rooms. She found him again only by the tuft of his hair, the rest of him obscured by one of the huge moulds used to craft weapons. They weren't often in use as they were cumbersome and often difficult to replace should they ever be damaged; the only times they were pulled from the side walls were for the preparations of the Spring Raid or for some other special order, like a coming of age gift or a hand fasting sword.

She could tell he was trying to pry open the large block of granite by the sounds of his grumbling and she took her time finding a place to recline without disturbing him. She tucked herself away into the closest corner and sat cross legged on the wooden countertop, her eyes scanning the various weapons laid out across the shelves and tables in the forge. She recognized a few of the swords and hammers due to the family crests welded into the handles and she studied some of the other weapons from afar. There was one in particular that she had never seen before but was instantly drawn to; it looked like some sort of malevolent hybrid son of a bow and a miniature catapult all wrapped up into one. She leant over and picked up the considerably sized device, placing it in her lap in order to study it more closely.

The bow catapult was seemingly armed with a projectile, though the long range weapon was cut considerably shorter than most of the arrows used when hunting. The fletching was fitted with sparrow feathers, the small brown plumes greased and precisely balanced. She held the thing by what she assumed to be the handle and her fingers unconsciously slid into a crevice beneath the wide base of the device. She lifted the contraption and caught a glimpse of the lever that sat precariously close to her fingers, following the connections of the trigger with her eyes until she came to the mechanism that held the bow taut and armed.

"Astrid?"

Startled, she clenched the trigger and set the device in motion, the arrow shooting out of the bow catapult at breakneck speeds. The little weapon flew directly at Hiccup who cried out in alarm and ducked, the arrow skimming the top of his head by a centimetre. The weapon hit the other side of the forge and lodged itself in the grout of the stone walls, wavering innocently as Hiccup peeled himself off the floor.

"Odin's beard Astrid! Want me to lose an eyeball too?"

Astrid nearly threw the device sideways as she leapt to her feet, her apology immediately forgotten at his irritable tone.

"I'm sorry you're such a magnet for trouble!" she snarled back, "What in Hel was that thing anyway? It's horrible."

Hiccup, already prepared to spit out a sarcastic retort, shrank back at her words, "It's…it shoots arrows for you."

"Well I discovered that much," she snapped, her bitterness still obvious in her intonation, "Why would you make something like that? It's not hard to shoot an arrow."

Hiccup turned around slowly, deciding that it was better not to respond to her comments. He could barely walk, let alone wield any type of weapon without considerable effort and he had hoped that his invention would have been praised rather than scorned. He hobbled over to the fires and started stoking the dying flames, "What do you want?"

Astrid's tone was scathing, "Well excuse me for wanting to see you. You've been locked up in here for weeks!"

"It's not like I asked for it," he replied, glaring over his shoulder, "Gobber's off with the hunting party on one of the Southern islands and I have to finish the rest of the wedding orders for next Thursday."

Astrid frowned, folding her arms across her chest, "Why don't you just take a break? It can't be that hard."

"Hard?" Hiccup smirked humourlessly and snatched a hammer from the counter, taking a molten sword in his other hand so he could pound the metal into submission, "It must be nice to be an able-bodied warrior with all your limbs still intact! Get a real job and you might—"

SLAM

"Just!"

SLAM

"Understand!"

It wasn't just the words that were flying from his lips but rather the manner in which he had said them that made her step back; she had never truly seen the boy this furious nor had she ever been at the brunt of his wrath, his face beet red as he pounded the daylights out of the sword in his hands. Beads of sweat she had not seen earlier were glistening on his brow and she could see the vein in his temple pounding dangerously from afar. She had an incomprehensible urge to step nearer but thought better of it after eyeing the smelting sword in his hands.

"Look Hiccup, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you upset."

"I'm fine," was his reply.

She sighed, "To tell you the truth, I just came by here to talk to you," she sided up the nearest counter and hoisted herself onto the splintered wood, "I missed seeing you around."

Hiccup kept smashing away at his sword and Astrid took the lack of sarcasm as a good sign.

"Umm…" she started out awkwardly, tossing the bangs out of her eyes. Small talk had never been one of her greatest talents, "The prototype saddles are working out pretty well. Except 'Lout I guess. Firewyrm keeps setting herself on fire whenever he straps it to her body. 'Lout keeps pitching a fit every time but I think she just likes all the attention he gives her when she does it."

"And his father, as it turned out, has taken a shine to the Terrors. They follow him around like he's some sort of deity and though he keeps trying to blow it off, you can tell that he loves it," Astrid smiled quaintly, enjoying the subject matter no matter how one sided their conversation had become. At least he was listening to her, "They followed him right into the meeting the other night and I thought your father was going to throw a tantrum! It was pretty funny."

Hiccup faltered for a moment at the mention of his father but recovered quickly, maintaining his systematic rhythm.

"And then Fishlegs managed to get himself hurt. Róta said that he probably broke a few bones in his hand after crushing it between boats and he won't be able to use it again until spring.

"Who's Róta?"

Hiccup's voice surprised her and in her hesitation she seemingly lost his attention, "She's the village healer now that Grid has passed to Valhalla. You've met her apprentice at least right? I've seen her slip in here to wrap your…err…leg."

Hiccup's expression darkened and he thrust the cooling sword back into the fires of the furnace. He left it to reheat and limped over towards his workshop, disappearing behind the tattered curtain. He emerged a few seconds later with a large chunk of bread in his hands and broke the piece in two, offering the blonde warrior half.

Astrid tried her best to smile in gratitude and nod, taking the chunk of bread into her hands in order to take a bite. It was surprisingly decent and Astrid had a sneaking suspicion that it hadn't come from the ovens of the Haddock household.

"Who baked this? It's good."

Hiccup didn't look up as he disappeared behind the granite cast yet again, only to reappear a moment later holding an axe in his hands, "Ruffnut dropped it off yesterday, along with a few of her father's hammers. Said I looked thin and disgusting."

Astrid could barely stifle the flare of jealously that rose in her gut as she sought to reply, "Sounds like something she would say."

Hiccup started the sharpening wheel and kept wrenching the thing until it was spinning rapidly, "I agreed with her and took the bread, not that it'll help. Her mother is a bread making goddess though…I mean, Odin knows Ruff doesn't have the patience to stitch a button, let alone make bread."

Astrid was feeling far too indignant to reply as the device sped up significantly, and without inquiring about how he had learnt of the girl twin's less than stellar sewing skills, she settled on watching the boy instead. He finally finished getting the stone wheel up to speed and stood up with an unbalanced waiver, righting himself on the wheel's wooden frame as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

"I'll be back," he said quietly, retreating again from the main forgery into his workshop in the backrooms. She heard him scuffle with something or other for a minute or two and the blonde continued to wait impatiently until he ultimately returned. He had shed his long sleeved tunic and in its stead wore a short sleeved top of the same green fabric, cinched at the waist with a thin leather rope. He slapped guards onto his wrists as he ambled back over to the sharpening wheel, the leather so worn it was practically white.

For Astrid, the change in appearance was…uncanny.

She had never seen the boy so physically exposed in all her life as he hauled the axe from the counter onto the spinning stone and began sharpening its edges. His upper arms were by no means burly but the lean, sinewy muscle beneath his pale skin told her that he was stronger than he seemed. He flipped the axe effortlessly in his palms, grinding the steel against the stone as an explosion of sparks and embers threw his features into sharp relief. They filled the room with an ambiance akin to a radiant sunset as the cinders rose and fell like impromptu confetti, extinguishing languidly on the ground.

From what she could see of his dim profile against the shadows of the forge, he had managed to fill out considerably. The flesh had returned to his cheeks and he seemed to be far healthier than he had when she had seen him last, although he looked as harried as an elder, troubled beyond his years. His brows were furrowed past the point of mere concentration and his lips were pursed in a distraught scowl, something she wasn't used to seeing on the characteristically quiet boy she had kissed all those days ago. She wasn't sure what to think as he ran the blunt of his fingernail across the blades of the axe to check for sharpness, her mind at a loss of coherence as his eyes followed the curvature of the weapon before resting again on her.

"Astrid."

It was more of a statement than a question but she treated it like the latter, "Yes?"

"Do you…" he trailed off, wringing his fingers in his hands nervously before stepping closer, setting the freshly sharpened axe onto the ground.

"What do you know about the end of the world?"

* * *

Don't forget to review and I'll see you guys after the jump! Happy Christmas and New Year!

Love and fluff,

Brontë


	2. Becoming Urðr II

Wow! A huge thank you to my readers, new and returning, who took the time to write me a review! I cannot thank you enough! And to those of you who simply alerted/favourited this monster of mine, I would really love to hear from you! The future of my story always rests in your hands.

This is the first of many chapters where all of my research will really come into play - Norse mythology is something else, let's be honest. You'll also get a little taste of why this first arc is named Becoming Urðr, although I won't really get into it until a little later... :) And of course, we get a chance to return to Astrid's perspective, because she really isn't the heartless monster everyone seems to perceive her to be.

Finally, I hope that you all had a wonderful holiday and I hope that you enjoy this next installment of _Horizons_! Please take a moment to review and let me know how you liked it and I promise I will reply with gracious thanks!

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc I : Becoming Urðr**_

_Chapter II

* * *

_

Astrid was taken aback, "The end of the world? You mean Ragnarök? Why would you want to know—"

Hiccup cut her off, waving his hand in dismissal, "Not that kind of concept. I mean like…the end of the Earth, you know? Where does Midgard end and the other worlds begin?"

It was a question she never would have expected to come from the boy, let alone from any of the men or women in their quaint village – but she was beginning to realize that expecting the unexpected from the young rider was the only way to engage him without losing the rest of her precious sanity, "I don't really know to be honest with you Hiccup. Why do you ask?"

He let his eyes slip away for a moment and then took a few steps closer, using his bare arms to leap up onto the counter opposite of her so that they were sitting face to face, "Just curious. The question kind of hit me the other day while I was flying with Toothless and I figured you would be more familiar on the subject, considering your relation with the Elder."

"You'd be best to talk to her about it," Astrid replied, staring thoughtfully at the boy, "Besides the legend of Jörmungand I know pretty much next to nothing about it," she paused for a moment before smirking playfully, "Why? Just because you ride a Night Fury you think you can go have tea with the gods or something?"

Astrid tried to ignore the look of earnestness on the young blacksmith's face but her nervous laughter eventually got the best of her, until her giggles stopping entirely. The expressions on her features flickered from uneasy amusement to shock to downright horror all in about the span of a second.

"You can't seriously be thinking—"

Hiccup let out a bark of laughter, as forced as it may have sounded, "Of course not Astrid. I was just curious, that's all. I never got the chance to hear any of these legends as a kid you know, and I figured you would know a little more about it."

Astrid was relieved at the sound of his confession but she still couldn't quite suppress the bundle of anxious intuition churning in her gut. She swallowed the strange sensation and managed to force it into the back of her mind as best she could, "I was never much of a listener when I was a child to be honest. I would have rather been sparring with my father in the town square than listen to my great aunt ramble away about some nonsense when my mother would dump me there," she smiled for a moment, a little nostalgic, "The weirdest things would come out her mouth – you would think she was daft! Did you know that once she told me this silly little riddle and Frigg only knows if I could ever solve it. I asked her one time if she would tell me the answer and do you know what she said?"

Hiccup, his interest now fully immersed in her words, was eager to hear her answer, "What?"

"She had no idea! What's the point of asking someone a riddle if you don't even know the answer? What if the person you asked answered right? You wouldn't even know enough to tell them!"

Hiccup was pensive, "What did the riddle say exactly?"

"Well," Astrid huffed, planting her hands on her hips and making a show out of it, "It doesn't make any sense at all! I don't even know why it bothers me so much," she crossed her left leg over her right and schooled her expression as she began to recite.

"_Two paths, one never taken,_

_On the road that never was,_

_Should you take to the horizons,_

_Where beginning meets the end._

_Where is where?"_

Hiccup smirked, his distinguishing humour finally finding semblance in his features, "Sounds like Gothi has lost her mind."

Astrid grinned widely, relieved to finally relish in his wit, "Hiccup!" she scolded playfully, swatting at him with her hand "You better watch it tonight! She'll stir up the spirits and get them to twist your toes in your sleep if you don't watch your tongue!"

Hiccup's expression was one of incredulousness, "Sounds like a pile of dragon muck to me."

"Hiccup!" she wagged her finger at him in mischievous reproach, "She's a soothsayer you know. I bet you she's heard every single word you've said!"

"And I believe you're the one who called her daft."

Astrid turned her nose up into the air, acting out her best standoffish pout, "There are no rules saying you can't make fun of your own family. That's just what people do!"

Hiccup slipped easily from the counter he had been perched upon and rolled his eyes. He slid closer to the blonde warrior before him and carefully stayed just out of arms reach, wary of his own wellbeing around the beautiful albeit fierce woman. He leant over onto the splintered wood beside her and tried to look remotely suave, failing miserably all the while. Astrid couldn't help but be endeared though, having been quite aware that he was just trying to casually keep his weight off of his bad foot. Every ounce of bitterness she had felt for him earlier had all but disappeared and she couldn't help but let a goofy smile take over her lips as she stared at the boy, his laughter impeccably infectious. She joined in on the fun, barely aware of the absurdity of the thing, just glad that the ice had finally been broken.

"You know," he wheezed, clutching his abdomen as he tried to stop his laughter, "Toothless is probably starving. I should probably get going before he eats something he's not supposed to."

Astrid continued smiling and nodded, ignoring the sneaking suspicion that he was purposely trying to dismiss her, "Of course," she leapt off of the counter and landed nimbly on her feet, her face suddenly only a few inches away from the boy in front of her, "I best be off too."

Hiccup couldn't stop the raging blush that took over his cheeks, "Err…yeah…I…uhh…"

Astrid rolled her eyes and grabbed him by his shirt collar, extinguishing the space quickly between them. She pressed her lips to his for but a moment, devilishly aware that she was simply giving him a taste of what he would be missing. She pulled away and grinned deviously, sidestepping around the dazed boy and setting off towards the door.

"Hey Astrid, wait—oof!"

He had spun around to stop her and instead got a broken piece of barrel to the face for his troubles, knocking him backwards into the wooden counter. He cleared his blurry vision with his fists and stared back at the girl in the doorway with his mouth agape, unable to even formulate a proper response.

"That was for making a stupid weapon that will probably kill you."

Hiccup crossed his bare arms over his chest and glared indignantly at the girl, a bruise already forming where the wood had made contact with his brow, "Thanks. I appreciate it."

Astrid frowned before exiting the forge entirely and with a sensation that felt more like defeat instead of victory, she set off towards her lodge. The sun was as high in the sky as it would get that afternoon and she took a moment to enjoy the warmth against her pale skin, knowing that those precious, tepid moments were fleeting. Soon they would be under half a league of snow with no chance of escaping and Thor only knew the things Hiccup would get himself into should he be left to his own devices for that long.

A thought struck her that perhaps she was thinking too little of the boy; _'Of course he'll be okay'_, she thought rather scathingly to herself, unsure now of what to think as she scurried through the village. She was caught up in a flurry of clashing emotions that were welling up within her, threatening to burst at any minute. She was no longer certain of the status of her relationship with the rider – had she been too forward with him that night when she had kissed the life out of Hiccup? Had she been too caught up in her own flood of emotions to think clearly? Had she been too bold when it was obvious that she was pushing way too hard? Did he even know what she had gone through during those seventeen terrible days? Her thoughts turned on him now, begrudging his obliviousness while she grieved all those days ago. It irritated her to no end that he hadn't been aware of her suffering and she just wanted to turn around and pound him silly for not remembering at all.

She ignored the fleeting feeling that she was being outrageously selfish and wrenched open the door to her lodge, stomping furiously through the wooden cabin towards the hearth. Listening to her loud footfalls against the sturdy hardwood was like music to her ears, a melody that easily complimented the raging drone pounding in her thoughts. She raided her cupboard angrily and settled on snatching the day old bread off the shelf, glaring at it reproachfully. She unwrapped it from the cheesecloth and ripped a crusty piece from the end, pushing the concept of Hiccup to the back of her mind. As far as she was concerned right now, he didn't exist. She focused instead on Ruffnut and her impudence – how dare she just march into the forge like she owned the place? And offer him bread; Astrid was seething. The nerve that impetuous little wench had! Astrid was overtaken with a murderous temper as she mulled over the things she would like to do to the girl should she ever have the chance to catch her alone.

She took the meagre remainder of her bread upstairs with her and slammed the bedroom door. She manoeuvred around the empty beds of her siblings and made her way to her own, collapsing upon the hard wooden frame. Her furious stint had become rather exhausting and she slumped her shoulders, staring absently at a knot of wood in the floorboards. She was suddenly tired and the displeasure running through her veins was entirely unwelcome. She didn't know why she was feeling so emotional after her visit with Hiccup; perhaps it was his effect on her that drove her mind into chaos. She hadn't felt this conflicted for as long as she could remember and it was wearying, her murderous thoughts thoroughly spent. She sighed and unstrapped the armour from her shoulders and her hips, letting the two articles of clothing fall to the floor with a clatter. She fished a sleeveless cloak from the woven drawers beneath her bed and threw the shawl over her body, revelling in the soft knitted fabric as it encased her cold skin. She leant back and rested her head against her pillow, wishing all of this uncertainty would just go away.

* * *

"_And Frigga she spun, she spun neverending,_

_To speak of the future, she never would do,_

_And yet I have seen it, her silk threads a spinning,_

_Her blanket of stars over my Midgard skies…"_

The weathered voice of Gothi was hard to miss on the ruthless gusts of autumn wind coming from the east, their breezes buffering the song that swam amongst the draught. Hiccup picked up the familiar tune right away and was unable to keep himself from humming along, his uneven strides matching the folkloric beat.

The melody was one he had often heard in his youth; as a boy, he had been frequently dumped on his aunt when his father would leave for months and months in search of food or alliances. Noyha was the eldest sister of Valhallarama and had been the only one of their clan that remained at the time of his childhood. Her other family members had either passed on to Valhalla in the raids or because of illness, leaving her as the only one left. It was unfortunate that presently she too rested beside them in her watery grave, her lonely warrior's heart at long last triumphing over her will to survive. She had always been a gentle woman despite her ever present grief, having never gotten over the loss of her husband and family so many years ago. Alongside her father and Hiccup's mother in the raids, the loss of her three children to the virus that had nearly wiped out every one of the younglings on the island had taken its tormenting toll. The young heir to the chieftain's role, only a sickly toddler then, had always enjoyed his slight aunt's company; she never looked upon him with disdain as his father had. Instead she always had a smile, however sad, and this gentle pleasure towards a motherless child was the only illumination he had.

The young Viking swallowed uncomfortably as the memories of his past washed over him and he chose to focus his mind on the present, shuffling around the bend. At once the arched form of the elder came into view, the woman clearly aware of his presence as she supervised her aid sweep the dead leaves off the porch. Gothi had seen him long before he had come into view and made sure that he noticed, staring at long length at the boy as if she were trying to intimidate the living daylights out of him. Hiccup gulped nervously and continued on towards the cabin despite her glower, pausing at the threshold of the elder's wooden steps.

"Boy," she acknowledged, one of her grey eyes squinting as she examined him, "It seems I was expecting you."

Hiccup tried to quell the dangerous palpitations in his chest as the elder seemed to stare right through him, her smirk absolutely terrifying every logical notion from his thoughts.

"Err…really? That's uh…that's good then….err…"

"Come," she commanded, cutting off his ramblings. A gust of wind stirred from the heavens as she spoke and Hiccup shivered unconsciously, the whispers of a thousand seers running unheard from the skies. Gothi perked visibly as the draught swept her windswept clothes and smiled eerily, beckoning the young Viking before her with a movement of her hand. Hiccup cautiously made his way up the stairs and walked past the elder's diligent assistant who continued working like he wasn't even there. This unnerved him more than he would have cared to admit and with a final breath of ocean air he stepped through the entrance and closed the door behind him.

Hiccup was forced to contain his surprise as he scanned the interior of the lodge with his eyes, having expected something of nightmares from the old seer's home. He had never entered the elder's domain save when he had been a babe but he had always imagined it to be crawling with cobwebs and vehicles of magic. He scolded himself inwardly as he followed the elderly woman past the hearth, feeling just a little ridiculous. All of his prior apprehension had been in vain and Hiccup felt like a moron more than anything, acknowledging just how foolish his imagination had led him to become.

"My old bones are not as they used to," the elder peered over her shoulder as she came to a stop in front of a great wooden door. She rapped the old lumber lightly with her hardwood cane and took a step backwards, beckoning Hiccup to come and use his youthful strength, however feeble. Hiccup swallowed his misgivings and hobbled over to the barrier, grasping the rusted metal handle with his hands. He gave the large door a rough tug and thankfully it came loose from its dusty frame; he propped his good foot against the wall and used it to keep himself off of the ground, and his bad foot, opening it up at least half way with the muscles in his thighs. He leapt off of the wall and simultaneously kept the door open, bracing his body on the inside of the wooden barrier as he landed back onto the ground, only jarring himself lightly in the process. He wasn't entirely aware of the half mad stare the elder was giving him, her smirk unlike anything he had been privy to before. He huffed and gave one sharp nod of triumph before propping it open even more.

His eyes stumbled upon Gothi as she passed through the doorway he was holding open, that unnerving smile doing all sorts of horrible things to his intelligence. He had a good idea on where they were headed but that didn't help him much as he followed her down the worn subterranean passage, the only place where things of worth could not be touched by the flames of dragon fire or the blood of their enemies during raids. It lead through the side of the cliff the elder's house had been built against and went somewhere deep beneath the rocks, the basalt providing a protective sphere for all of the village's goods below. Hiccup steeled himself as he was led to the epicentre of everything culturally and historically valuable to their tribe, assembled diligently during the past six hundred years, and when the libraries finally came into view Hiccup couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed.

The elder continued to lead the young Viking towards the middle of the vast cavern, its walls lit with flaming torches that peppered the rocky face. The smoke from the fires spiralled upwards like serpents, whisked away towards a smoke hole so far up that Hiccup couldn't even see it. What he had once imagined to be a grotto was actually a cathedral of igneous stone, as tall and as wide as the Great Hall itself. Weapons and masks lined the walls to his left and the door to the vault stood out like a beacon to his right, their depths locked away with a metal key that only the chief possessed. But the rest of the treasures passed by unnoticed once Hiccup's eyes finally fell upon the bookshelves upon bookshelves in the far corner. He barely managed to restrain himself from taking off in their direction, deciding it was better to wait, however impatiently, for the elder's permission.

Gothi acknowledged the boy's antsy motions but didn't indulge him, "I imagine this is what you came for?" She motioned towards the volumes in the back corner, their yellow pages rich with their ancestors' substantial histories, "Something told me you would be coming my way."

Hiccup's excitement melted away at the elder's perceptive glare, her vision once again passing right through him, "Err…really?"

"I had Hildr light the torches for me earlier today. You'll find a lantern on the stand over there should you need it," Gothi nodded sharply and began making her way back from where they had come. She paused at the brink of the passageway before disappearing behind the bend, peering over her shoulder at the immobile boy, "Take as much time as you wish."

He watched as she finally left the mouth of the yawning cavern, leaving him alone in the dim firelight. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his pounding heart, the thrill of a breakthrough yet to be discovered coursing through his veins. He took a few steps backwards, keeping the exit of the cave in view, and nearly leapt with joy as he spun around towards the looming bookcases lining the walls. They towered over him like huge statues of stone as he reached the base of their mighty heights, filled to the brim with leather bound volumes and manuscripts and sagas. He lunged for the first book within his reach and nearly fell over as he caught it in his grasp, the script weighing far more than he had anticipated. He hobbled over to the wooden stand and dropped the book onto its surface, a cloud of dust billowing in its wake.

He opened the leather and began scrolling through the ancient pages, quickly learning that what he had chosen from the shelves was a record of the village of Berk. The first few hundred pages were barely legible as the ink had faded from the parchment – Hiccup scrolled further, unexpectedly realizing the magnitude of his bloodline. The Haddocks had been the chieftains of Berk for over three hundred years if his eyes were reading the runes correctly, something he had always known but never really appreciated. That meant nearly six direct ancestors, not including his father, who would be watching from Valhalla when he would be granted the privileges of the chieftain of Berk.

He shivered, a rush of cold air coiling through the treasury.

His father had mentioned it once or twice since he had recovered from the battle of the Red Death and Hiccup thought it better to keep his silence. For the majority of his life it was expected that the rights of chieftain would be given to his older cousin and he wasn't sure what to make of the sudden change of heart. He had only spoken to Snotlout a few times since he had convinced them all to take to the skies in order to save their tribe and his cousin had made no mention of it at all. This left Hiccup with the conclusion that Snotlout either had yet to be told, or was simply too bull-headed to comprehend it. The young Viking wanted to give his burly, overbearing cousin the benefit of the doubt but his logic told him that the latter was probably the reality of the situation.

He ran his fingers over the records of his birth, closely followed by the death of his mother. From the few illustrations he had borne witness to, Valhallerama had been a stout and fierce woman, green eyes mischievous and lips always grinning. But despite all of her ferocity, she had not been able to bear the aftermath of childbirth and the infection soon took her past the hands of even the most skilled healers, leading to her death during the raids. It was no wonder that he was so sickly and lean, considering the time of his birth. None of the other women on the island were with child at the time, and with no source of maternal nourishment it was a wonder he even made it to the first thaw at all.

He closed the book of records and returned it to the shelf, swallowing back the uncomfortable feeling churning deep within his core. He trailed his fingers against the worn spines of the volumes along the rest of the shelf, watching with a sense of awe as he swept away the decades of dust and earth due to idle use. He grasped another one of the large volumes and tugged it from its ancient dwelling, his eyes widening when he read the runes upon the threadbare cover.

_CREATION_

Hiccup hobbled over to the dais with the huge saga in his palms, placing it on the surface of the table with a kind of gravity that made him want to hold his breath. He paused for a moment and ran the pads of his fingers gently across its surface, the texture of the worn leather beneath his skin giving him goose bumps. He opened the cover and began reading the runic letters hungrily, his thoughts thirsty for the fading script on the parchment before him. Beautiful coloured drawings of gods and goddesses accompanied the recitation of the words, the detailed lines of the illustrations almost leaping off the pages. Hiccup took his lower lip between his teeth and read on, enthralled by the runes before his eyes.

_At the beginning, there was nothing but the endless abyss called Ginnungagap. To the north lay Niflheim, a world of ice so cold that none could ever there dwell. And to the south lay Muspellheim, a place of molten fire like the volcanoes of the mainland, their spewing guts dark and deadly. _

_From this abyss came the first meeting of fire and ice, and thus sprung the first being into Creation. Ymir, the first jötunn, was borned._

_The first God was made from stone, shaped by the seas and the skies into the contour of Man. His name was Buri. He bore a son named Bor, who then wed to the giantess Bestla. From her womb sprung the first of the Æsir gods. Thus Óðinn the first, Hoenir thereafter and Ve came to be._

_Ymir, the father of the frost giants, befell and was evil. His malevolence could be felt across all of Ginnungagap and was thence killed by Óðinn the first and his brothers. With his great body, they created the universe._

_Óðinn the first and his brothers used the blood of Ymir to create vast oceans, and used his flesh for the earth. From his skull they created the heavens, ivory bone held proudly by dwarfs __Norðri, Suðri, Austri and Vestri__. Using the brows of Ymir they built a wall to keep the jötunn away, and used the other to separate Miðgarðr, the dwellings of Man, from the heavens._

_From the sparks of Muspellheim they created the sun, and from Niflheim they created the moon. They set upon them wolves to keep them from ever idle. _

_The great tree __Yggdrasill was planted to support the nine worlds of the universe. __Ásgarðr, the dwellings of the gods and Vanaheim, the lands of dwarfs. Álfheim and Svartalfheim, the dwelling of the elves of light and dark. Niflheim, the world of ice and Muspellheim, the world of fire. Jötunheim, the dwellings of giants and Helheim, the land of the dead. Finally Miðgarðr, the dwellings of Man._

_Beside the three roots of __Yggdrasill were three wells, guarded by the Norns__._

_Every morning Ur__ðr__, Ver__ð__andi__ and Skuld take water from __Urdarbrunnr__, the sacred well, and pour it onto the root nearest to them so that it may never rot. The Norns weave tapestries of the fates, every thread bringing with it the destiny of Man. Only the greatest of Man become one with the tapestries of fortune, their legacies stitched entwined. _

_The second well, __Mímisbrunnr, is guarded by the gods of knowledge._

_The third well, Hvergelmir, is the dwelling of the great serpent __Nidhogg whom forever gnaws upon the root of __Yggdrasill where __Niflheim resides. When Nidhogg finally chews through the world of ice it will be the sign of Ragnarök._

_The offspring of Loki and cousin to Nidhogg is Jörmungandr, the serpent of Miðgarðr. Jörmungandr is the very evil of the Middle Earth, his venom so deadly it could slay an Æsir god with one bead. Óðinn the first condemned him to the seas only for the snake to grow so large that his entire body encircled Miðgarðr itself. He lurks at the end of the world of Man, crushing wayward ships with his body and jaws. It is said that no entity, Man nor god, can defeat Jörmungandr. _

Hiccup slammed the book shut, his chest heaving. His eyes were wide with the thrill of it and something akin to adrenaline and fear was coursing through his veins. He gripped the leather bindings of the volume desperately with his fingernails, his mind a flurry of possibilities endlessly awaiting him. _Jörmungandr, Miðgarðr, the end of the world…_the runes of the saga soared from the parchment and hissed tauntingly in his ears. He tried to catch his breath but couldn't; his heart was racing too wildly in his chest, his lips parted as he fought to get control.

'_What am I waiting for?'

* * *

_So...did I bore you with my history lesson? Haha!

Please review and let me know if wrote up to your expectations. I will be so happy if you do! :)

Love and fluff,

Brontë


	3. Becoming Urðr III

Thank you so much for all of the reviews and the favourites! Those of you who have faithfully reviewed are so welcome in my heart I can't even describe it! I love you guys! (Rylie my darling, sign in so I can reply to you!)

In all honesty, I can't say I'm all that happy with the first part of this chapter but I think the last half really makes up for it. It's not often that I break out the dialogue but I think I really did it justice. Don't throw any axes at me either; I promise that this will be the last angst-driven chapter for quite some time. :)

Without further ado...

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc I : Becoming Urðr**_

_Chapter III

* * *

_

The sun was rising later and later in the mornings and with it brought an ill-fated sign that winter was nigh on the horizon. Hiccup noticed this begrudgingly and wrenched himself out of bed despite himself, drawing additional furs around his body as he left the bedroom for the hearth. His dragon was waiting as patiently as a dragon could, his tongue lolling to one side in excitement. His rider's body language hinted that something sensational was coming as the boy hobbled down the stairs, his hands white-knuckled as he grasped at the banister for dear life. Toothless wiggled his rear end in suppressed anticipation and leapt closer to the boy as he made it down the final stair, the dragon grinning wildly from ear to ear.

"Hey bud," the young Viking greeted placidly, scratching the charcoal dragon fondly behind his ear plates, "Just wait a few minutes and we'll go to the harbours."

Toothless crooned in earnest at his rider's words and dipped his scaly head to one side, thoroughly enjoying Hiccup's satisfying ministrations. A few of his loose scales clattered to the floor as the young rider continued to shift down the dragon's body, using his nimble fingers to itch along the path of ebony spinal plates. He paused and started following a trail of scars down his quarters absently with the palm of his hand, stopping only when the blemishes disappeared beneath his belly. Hiccup's expression turned dangerously thoughtful; the dragon swivelled his head towards the young rider and eyed him with the same caution he had since the days after his revival. Those strange, foreign expressions crossing his rider's face made him squirm uncomfortably and Toothless wished he could do something to get rid of them. He nudged the frown from Hiccup's lips with his nose and the boy offered him a half-hearted smile in return, moving towards the hearth to stoke the cooking fires before venturing further into the galley.

Hiccup grasped at a ceramic jar from the shelf in the pantry and brought it carefully over to the table, teetering slightly as he fought to keep his precarious balance. Once the earthenware was safely placed upon the table, Hiccup opened the jar and took a handful of whole oats into his palms. He dumped the grains onto the table and used the wooden edge to help him bend down to grab the stone rolling pin from a shelf beneath the counter. He began to grind the oats until they cracked, breaking them down so that they looked like they would be the right consistency for porridge once boiled.

He sighed and rolled his shoulders, realizing he had forgotten to start a pot of water on the fire. He trudged over to the pantry again and grabbed a pot off the shelf, bringing it over to the water barrel to fill. He spilt some of the water in his attempt to siphon it from the cask and swore out loud, grumbling sourly to himself as he soaked the sleeve of his tunic. He flailed his arm around haphazardly to try and dry the sodden fabric but only succeeded in drenching himself further, spilling the contents of his pot all over his pants and moccasin. He sputtered angrily and stomped back over to the table, barely restraining himself from throwing the steel utensil at the wall.

Meanwhile, Toothless continued to watch his rider with vague amusement; obviously, the boy's morning was not going as planned. Disaster seemed to follow the poor hatchling wherever he went and the ebony dragon hoped with every ember in his core that the human's terrible luck wouldn't rub off on him.

A swish of his tail reminded him that it was far too late for that.

The young Viking finally managed to fill his pot without another incident and he heaved it up towards the cooking fire, hooking it just above the tongues of flame. He reached for the nearest stool and settled himself as close to the fire as he could stand so he could dry out his clothes before daring to venture outside. From the chill in the air he safely assumed that the first frost must have come during the night, an omen that truly meant the end of the good weather. He gazed over his shoulder at the dragon lying lethargically behind him and felt a pang of anxiety grasp at the pit of his stomach.

What was going to happen to Toothless?

Steadily during the past few days, the number of dragons leaving the island was increasing. It had started with the Terrors, and then the Gronkles, and then the Zipplebacks... They were all heading in one particular direction, south, and the gods only knew where in Midgard they were going. Hiccup was apprehensive about the whole situation and he knew he wasn't the only one – only yesterday he had overheard the twins arguing over why their dragon had left, blaming it on each other instead of acknowledging what was blatantly right in front of their eyes. The dragons were simply migrating; and without a fully functional tailfin Hiccup knew his Night Fury wouldn't be able to follow.

The great creature opened one of its green eyes and stared restlessly up at Hiccup, sensing the panic coming off of the young hatchling in waves. He raised his head slowly and gazed at the boy calculatingly, their stare meeting for a fleeting moment. The human refused to make eye contact with him again for longer than a second and it was at that point that the perceptive dragon finally realized that he was the source of his rider's upset emotions. Without another moment's hesitation, the Night Fury got to his feet and padded closer to the half soggy human, curling his tail around the crippled leg of his rider as he sat down behind him.

The dragon peered downwards and eyed the mahogany crown of hair, the movement of the individual strands barely perceptible as his hatchling breathed in and out. His proximity to his rider hadn't changed the unsteady beating of the human's jolting heart and the dragon crooned softly in question, nuzzling the tuft of hair with his snout.

Hiccup sighed and finally looked up at the dragon, his green eyes wide with worry and concern. Hiccup let his head rest against the Night Fury's chest with a soft thunk and rolled his eyes, offering him a smile that could only be described as melancholy.

"I'm sorry bud," he murmured, "I've just been caught up in my thoughts."

Toothless' expression said otherwise.

"Okay," Hiccup conceded with a shrug, "I've been doing a lot of thinking. About the dragons, about you, about me I guess. It's just that…they're all leaving and you can't."

The dragon shifted slightly and breathed out, letting Hiccup know that he had understood what he was trying to say. Toothless came down on all fours and crept up beside his rider, his eyes sad in comprehension as he nudged Hiccup with his brow. The boy smiled feebly and granted the dragon his wish, scratching him gently behind the ear plates and along the jaw line. Toothless warbled in satisfaction and drew nearer to his human, trying with every fibre of his being to portray that he would never want to leave his side anyway. After nearly smothering him in a full body embrace that knocked him from the stool and onto the belly of the beast, Toothless was sure he had gotten the hint.

"Uggh Toothless!" the boy complained laughingly, trying to swat one of the dragon's hefty paws off of the side of his face, "You overgrown salamander, let me go!"

Toothless refused to budge.

"Toothless!" Hiccup resorted to whining now, knowing well enough that the charcoal Fury couldn't stand his nasal moaning. But the dragon kept ignoring him and continued to hug him as close to his body as he could with little to no chance of Hiccup escaping on his own.

"Okay," he sighed in defeat, attempting the voice of reason, "If you don't let me go, we can't go flying. Now, if you hadn't already noticed, I got up extra early so we could leave before Gobber gets here. But if you keep me here he'll find me and then we'll never fly again!"

The dragon made a noise of scepticism but otherwise kept his peace.

"Ugh…look, I'm just worried that's all," the young Viking grumbled, pouting in the dragon's resilient embrace, "Things are different now and…I don't know buddy. I feel like I just need to get away from here, you know? It's not like I'm actually of any use," Hiccup paused to fight back the well of emotions rising in his chest, successfully swallowing them after a moment of repose, "Nobody talks to me the way they used to anymore, which is not necessarily a bad thing but still… It's like...it's like I'm a celebrity to them or something. I feel like one day they're actually going to see me for who I really am, a half crippled fishbone…and then it'll be three times as bad as it was before… I don't know Toothless, help me out. What should I do?"

After a small pause, Toothless finally shifted just enough so that Hiccup could peek out between the dragon's paws in order to see the two big eyes that stared back at him with all the understanding he ever needed. Toothless blew a gust of air from his nostrils, tousling the hatchling's wild hair and warming his pale skin before offering him that signature toothless grin that never failed to make his hatchling smile.

And of course it worked.

Hiccup's lips betrayed him and the instantly satisfied dragon graciously released him from his bonds, immediately leaping to his feet and bounding over towards his tack. He nudged it off of the wooden horse until it tumbled to the floor with a clatter and Hiccup, his boiling water now entirely forgotten, hobbled over to retrieve it. Beckoning the dragon to lay onto his side, Hiccup began to attach the tack piece by piece, buckling on the crimson tailfin by memory. He tightened the straps around the Fury's withers and chest with relaxed precision and within minutes he was finished, clapping his hands together to rid them of the dust from the floor.

"You wanna fly buddy?"

The dragon undulated in anticipation, his toes waggling with excitement.

"Then let's ride."

* * *

From the vertical trajectory of the blur that shot up through the clouds like an arrow Astrid knew without a doubt that the little black speck in the distance could belong to no other. She beckoned her Nadder to pick up the pace and the blue scaled dragon did so eagerly, her wings beating harder against the influx of air. The young warrior kept her eyes trained on where the Night Fury had promptly disappeared into the heavens, blue irises narrowed as she tried to anticipate where the charcoal dragon might emerge. It wasn't long before the sound of the Night Fury's tell-tale nosedive stormed her ears, the dragon's slender body cutting through the air with enormous speed. As he spiralled downwards, the wind against his scales made a noise so unbearable that it still struck fear into the hearts of men.

The scream had started out slowly but now it was quickly beginning to rise in pitch and Astrid felt her Nadder stiffen beneath her. The blue dragon roared and barrel rolled hastily to the right just in time as the Night Fury and his copper haired rider shot through the blanket of clouds and nearly landed on her lap.

"HICCUP!" she screamed, her heart thudding wildly in her chest as she fought the panic that coursed through her veins, "Are you trying to kill me?"

Toothless levelled out beside the pair and from behind the mess of auburn hair his eyes shone brightly, their green depths wide with an emotion she couldn't quite place, "No more than you're trying to kill me!"

Astrid scowled, crossing her arms across her chest indignantly, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Hey," he shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner as he veered his dragon further away, "Don't ask me. I don't try and slice me in half with an axe or shish-kabob me with my own inventions every time I see myself."

Astrid swallowed her annoyance for a moment and tried to placate herself, realizing that she hadn't seen Hiccup with this expression in his eyes since…she actually couldn't remember the last time she had seen him like this. Before the battle of the Red Death, that was for certain.

"What's got you so out of sorts, fly boy?"

Hiccup tried to hide the blush that covered his freckled cheeks at the endearment but ended up failing miserably, "Nothing. I just err…I…umm well…I…"

His blush deepened and Astrid took advantage of his weakness, nudging her Nadder a few feet closer to the reddening boy, "Loki got your tongue?"

He swallowed nervously and veered Toothless away from her, ducking downwards towards the mainland. She quickly followed him, unwilling to give up so easily, and tailed him until they reached the coast. Toothless landed on the ground at the last minute and settled upon the sand, turning his head minutely in question as the Nadder followed suite. Astrid leapt off her mount and jogged up beside the stationary Fury, her roguish stance clearly exposing her intentions.

"Get off that dragon right now and tell me what stupid plans you've made," Hiccup looked startled at her revelation and with a growing satisfaction Astrid knew she had guessed correctly, "You're as see-through as a jellyfish, fly boy. Now tell me what's going on."

Hiccup hesitated for a moment but finally relinquished his position of advantage. He reached down and began unlocking his prosthetic from the stirrup, grimacing all the while, "It's none of your business."

Astrid raised an eyebrow and planted her hands on her hips, "I'm your girlfriend stupid. Your business is my business."

Hiccup looked startled at this and nearly fell from his position on Toothless' back. He stopped unlatching his prosthetic and started sputtering, his face level with her own as she continued to stare back, "What?"

"What?" she frowned deeply, crossing her arms again, "Am I your girlfriend or not?"

Hiccup was taken aback but at least he had gained back some of his motor functions. He managed to fumble to the sandy ground, his eyes still locked in a death stare with hers, "I…I…a-are we?"

Astrid winded her arm up for a hard punch but hesitated at the last minute, the panic on his face forcing her to pause in her stride, "Well that's what I thought. But obviously you've got other ideas."

It didn't take a genius to see that the Viking warrior in front of him was furious, "I…I'm sorry. I just…I just didn't think you wanted to…err…be…be with me, I guess."

Her anger quickly transformed into confusion, "What? What are you talking about?"

"Well…I…I don't know," Hiccup turned away from her and took a few steps forward, wishing fruitlessly for some solitude, "This was a bad idea."

Astrid's anger returned with full force, "_What_ was a bad idea?"

"Just…" Hiccup turned and eyed her sidelong, unwilling to make full eye contact with the livid warrior goddess, "I'm sorry. I never should have dragged you into this."

"Odin's beard Hiccup!" she bellowed, throwing her hands into the air in frustration, "What in all of Midgard are you talking about?"

"Look, just forget I ever said anything," he finally turned halfway towards her but he still refrained from looking her eye to eye, "You should go back to the village. Your mom is probably looking for you."

"Nu uh, no way," she growled, her back arching in preparation, "There is no way you are getting rid of me that easy."

Hiccup turned away from her again and Astrid took this as her perfect opportunity, closing the gap between them before pouncing on top of the boy from behind. He cried out in surprise and made no protest as she flipped him over onto his back and pinned his arms to his sides with her calves, his weaknesses oddly prevalent in his surrender. She stared daggers at him as he fought to catch his breath, his cheeks flushed as his heart tried to recover from his alarm.

"I-Astrid, please—"

"You are dead meat if you don't start answering my questions Hiccup," he swallowed roughly and, with an air of satisfaction, Astrid continued on with her interrogation, "Now tell me, what on Earth is the matter with you?"

"N-nothing," he stammered, the proximity of his face to hers finally becoming evident to the boy.

Astrid grinned, realizing that this impromptu intimacy might very well work to her advantage, "That's not the answer I'm looking for and you know it."

"I…" he signed, finally appearing like he was giving up, "I don't know Astrid. Do you think you could let me go?"

"No way," she leered, her smirk intimidating the daylights out of the boy beneath her, "Not until I get some answers. Now I'm going to ask you again, what is going on?"

He turned his head to the side and tried to send a signal of panic to his dragon with his arms but found himself completely immobile. Not that it would have mattered; the traitorous Fury was off frolicking in the waves with Astrid's Nadder, completely oblivious to his rider's plight.

"Hiccup…"

"Fine," Hiccup closed his eyes, his body finally relaxing beneath her weight, "I'm just worried, that's all."

"About what?"

"…the dragons I guess. I don't know where they're going and I'm worried that they won't come back."

Astrid frowned, "So are the rest of us. But I'm not stupid Hiccup. Something else is bothering you and I want to know what it is."

"I…come on Astrid," he looked towards her, his eyes pleading, "I don't want to talk about it. You know, men and their feelings—"

"Don't kid yourself Hiccup. You may have killed a dragon half the size of Berk but you're still a toothpick."

Hiccup's lips pursed together, a hard edge coming over his gaze, "Gee thanks Astrid. I thought significant others were supposed to be supportive of each other."

Astrid snorted, "Well according to you we're not even in a relationship."

"I didn't say that!" he said, his voice rising in volume, "I wish you would just leave me alone!"

"No!" she shouted back, her face now inches from his, "I'm not letting you go without knowing just what's going on!"

"What are you talking about?"

"What are we Hiccup?" she shrieked, "What am I to you? Do I mean anything to you?"

"Yes!" Finally, finally he was beginning to resist against her, "Yes you mean something to me! By Frigg you mean everything to me!"

If the shock on her face wasn't evidence enough, her grip loosening was a sure enough answer as Hiccup finally managed to free his arms, "Which is why…I don't know Astrid. I don't know if this is going to work out."

It was as if someone had taken a hammer to her chest, "What?"

Hiccup sighed and took a moment to brush his dishevelled bangs from his eyes, "You're…you're a warrior Astrid and I'm…I'm not. You said so yourself, I'm a toothpick. You're better off getting involved with somebody else, not tangled up in me. I'm a mess and…there are others who are a lot more deserving, a lot more suitable for you. You're so beautiful and…gods Astrid look at me; I'm a cripple for the love of Thor. You might as well all start calling me Hiccup the Useless again – I'm pretty much good for nothing now anyway."

Astrid's face began to redden and redden until Hiccup began to worry for her well-being and raised his hand to touch her cheek. She reacted immediately at his touch and threw his hand away, a livid growl escaping her lips.

"How dare you!" She leapt to her feet and stared furiously at the boy, just barely keeping herself from tromping on him, "How dare you just assume what's good for me and what isn't! You…you stupid, selfish idiot!" She threw her hands into the air and bent down, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar, "I fell in love with you, you dim-witted bonehead, and now you're telling me to shove off? I…aaghh!"

She threw him back into the sand and spun around on her heel, stomping off towards the rocky crags as fast as she could manage. She could feel the tears welling up and fought them back as valiantly as she could, focusing her thoughts on how incredibly angry she was instead of the reason why. She made it to one of the huge stone structures before she was intercepted, the boy's unsteady footfalls closing in behind her.

"Get away from me," she grumbled, hiding the tears in her voice as best she could. She kept her face turned away from him and her hair all over the place, her eyes focusing on an obstructing shard in the rocks.

"No."

"Leave me alone!"

"No."

She fought the urge to turn towards the obstinate boy and clobber him with her fists, choosing to concentrate on keeping the tears from escaping her eyes for the moment instead. She hated him for this, hated him for doing this to her and despite her best efforts she knew she couldn't keep her emotions at bay for much longer.

"I waited seventeen days for you to wake up," she whispered, her arms coming around to hug herself, "I thought you were going to die and every morning I rushed from my house just to make sure…just to make sure you were still breathing. Because after…after all of that, after Toothless, after the nest, I don't know what happened. But I think I…I think I knew then that I had been wrong about you, and that you weren't useless, no matter how useless you seemed. You were powerless and yet…you nearly died for us. I thought you were dead. And then when they…they cut your leg off and the healer's said you weren't going to last the next two hours…gods Hiccup, don't you understand? I thought you were gone! I thought I'd never see you again!" she finally turned around to face him, her eyes full of unshed tears, "I had never felt so helpless! I was in love with you! And now…I don't know what to think anymore."

The pause between them grew and grew until Hiccup couldn't take it anymore. The silent tears that were streaming down her cheeks were tearing him to shreds and the only thing keeping him from losing his mind was the realization that he was the source of her pain. Her eyes, their depths the colour of his beloved sky, were filled with a desperate sorrow he had never known and without knowing what he was doing he was crashing his lips onto hers, senseless as the gods took a frantic hold of him.

He placed his palms on her cheeks and brushed the tears away with the pads of his thumbs, gracious as she melted into his body and latched onto him like she had never done before. He let one arm slide down her spine and rest on the small of her back, pressing her closer to his body as he tipped her head back, taking advantage of his newly acquired height. His other hand found its way towards the nape of her neck and buried itself in her braided hair, revelling in the softness of her tresses against his skin.

He parted his lips slightly and gasped, his lungs filling with a mixture of her breath and his. Her eyes flew open at the sensation and quickly regained her senses, kissing him back with a fierceness that derived from the very corners of her heart, her emotions already so awry that she was nearly lost in the storm. She fought against the lips that worked against hers, tangled her fingers in his unwilling hair and wanted to throw him to the ground if it didn't mean separating from their glorious contact. She whispered her most fierce battle cry in the clash of their lips until she couldn't take it anymore, finally pulling them apart.

She pressed her cheek against his and struggled to catch her breath, their bodies still pressed together as closely as they were able. She revelled in the sensation of his stubble against her jawbone, a smile slowly crawling onto her lips as she realized she was entirely mistaken.

"I'm sorry Hiccup," she muttered, her lips barely an inch away from his ear, "I didn't mean to yell at you."

He sighed and Astrid could feel the pain in his chest as he did so, their bodies separating slightly as he took another deep breath, "I meant what I said before. You deserve something better, someone who can provide for you. You know as well as I do that I can't do that."

She pulled away, holding his shoulders at arm's length, "I can provide enough for the both of us."

He shook his head, his eyes downcast, "It's not right."

"Since when is the proper thing to do right?"

"Since I fell in love with you."

It was her turn to be speechless now, her eyes wide with the kind of surprise that succeeded in tearing his heart to pieces.

"We can't do this Astrid, you know that."

"Yes we can Hiccup, we can."

"I may not always be around."

"Don't say that, you're being stupid."

"No, I'm being reasonable."

She curled her hands into fists, her strength waning as every ounce of fight began to drain from her body, "I won't ever leave you."

Hiccup stepped back and glanced at her once more before turning around and walking back towards Toothless, the dragon standing sentinel now only a few yards away. He leapt on top of the Night Fury and bent down to strap his prosthetic into the stirrup, his eyes meeting hers for the last time before taking to the air and disappearing into the clouds.

"That's what I'm worried about."

* * *

It can only get worse before it gets better right? ...right?

Please review! You've heard it a million times before but the more you guys review and favourite, the faster I will post chapters!

Love and fluff,

Brontë


	4. Becoming Urðr IV

Thank you so much for the reviews my friends! A special thanks to those of you who continue to give me positive feedback; this story wouldn't be posted if it wasn't for you! I was going to actually post this last thursday but one of my friends got engaged that morning and we decided to go out for drinks to celebrate and...well, you get the picture. Things got a little messy, needless to say!

Back to business though: I tried to keep this chapter as angst free as possible since I think we all reached our alloted limit after last chapter!

So read on my friends! We're almost at the end of the first arc! I'm so excited to get this show on the road (or in the sky for that matter...)

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc I : Becoming Urðr**_

_Chapter IV

* * *

_

**Chapter IV**

The sunlit autumn morning over Berk was rapidly turning for the worse. Dark clouds were closing in from the north, bringing with them icy, frozen rain and gusts of wind so turbulent that they shook the very foundations of the Elder's weary home. Her expression never changed as she scanned the darkening horizon from the brink of her doorway, her eyes imperceptible as one accompanied dragon landed without the presupposed other.

The Deadly Nadder's lonesome rider leapt from her steed and raced off in the direction of her humble lodge, her dragon rushing wildly behind her in pursuit. The girl's blonde hair streamed out behind her like a silk spun of gold, running with the kind of vehemence one could only associate with the likes of heartbreak. The village Elder finally allowed a smirk to grace her wrinkled lips, her eyes never wavering as Astrid disappeared into the distance.

Living at the top of the village certainly had its advantages.

Gothi finally retreated into her home and eased the wooden door closed behind her, wheezing all the while. She struggled slowly inside as she passed into the tired foyer, her sodden socks shuffling against the levelled wood. Her hips didn't quite work like they used to and she stumbled as she stepped into the kitchen, setting foot on the uneven shale tiles. She grasped at the item closest to her for support and just barely managed to keep from tumbling to the ground, cursing up and down about the stiffness in her fingers. She muttered something entirely unintelligible about the merits of having fully functional body parts and continued on towards the hearth, bellowing to the servant girl regarding the whereabouts of her _dagmál. _

The rain had started pounding down on the Elder's lodge much harder than she had anticipated and she frowned minutely, the aching in her limbs only increasing as the weather got worse. She groused about the coming winter and scowled as the pain in her knees became more severe with every step.

Living far west of the mainland, however, had its disadvantages.

They may not have been living as far north as some of the other tribes but they were certainly the clan farthest to the west and closest to the _Grœnland_ peninsula. This had its advantages and its disadvantages of course, but in her aging mind and opinion it was mostly for the better. It meant never being attacked from the west or the north, since the colonies on _Grœnland_ were minor and barely flourishing. It meant a more relaxed and rural lifestyle, one that was free of pestilent constraints and warring concubines. The Elder looked upwards towards the maps of Berk mounted on the wall above the counters, and beside it the various atlases of the islands and continents to the east. Their grasp went all the way into the far reaches of the great continent and the leaders of the settlements there were always struggling for more and more of the fertile lands of _Hibernia_ and _Gaul_. Last time word reached her tired ears, _Dierkow_ had been finally captured, which of course meant wonderful things to those who dabbled in the matters of territory domination. But Gothi was not a woman who cared much about these trifles, preferring to focus on the matters of her present tribe at hand.

And what was bothering her currently was the piece of valuable material that had gone mysteriously missing from her vaults. It was a scroll of parchment that spoke coincidently of the matters she had just been mulling over not a moment before.

She glanced over at the woven sack lying on the feasting table some ten steps away with a sudden look of contempt. She knew he was going to come and examine the parchment sooner or later but to steal it? Was that entirely necessary? The boy was an artist, surely he could have recreated the maps in his own hand should he desire. She sighed and shook her head, picking at a hangnail in annoyance. She supposed it would do no good to mention anything about the candid theft, let alone to the culprit of the crime without disrupting the very nature of the Norns, something she was quite unwilling to do.

She finally made her way to the table, cursing anyone who would listen about the throbbing pains in her back. She eyed the sack of runes warily and fought the urge to throw them and ask her query again, knowing that the pain it would cause her fingers would be futile. They would speak of the same destiny, the same fate and fortune that would provide the tapestries of destiny something to truly sew about. The Elder sighed and looked away towards the cooking fire and shook her old head once more, her lips pursed in contemplation.

He was certainly turning out to be his father's son.

* * *

There was certainly something to be said in the way of obscenity as the oldest blacksmith on the island of Berk sauntered through the concourse of the village in pursuit of more or less unwelcome aims. He wasn't wearing a prosthetic on his arm and he made sure to make a show of it, pretending rather unsuccessfully to be immune and above the looks of awe the younglings gave him as he passed. Gobber was an aficionado of the palaver and the gossip at heart and would stop at just about nothing to make a good enough spectacle of a situation should the opportunity come around.

And he took this familiar approach with nearly everything he did because really, it was far too early in the morning for mead.

He ignored the mud that sucked ruthlessly at his lower prosthetic as he tromped through the puddles of sludge and muck. The storm that had hit yesterday had certainly left a great deal of destruction in its wake, the soggy roads and alleys of the coastal village included. Despite having gone to bed with the sound of heavy rainfall in his ears, Gobber had woken up to a clear sunny morning and he was eternally grateful for it. After all, they weren't going to get many more days like this before the chill really set in and set in for good considering their less than ideal acreage; you would have thought that the ancient founders of their quaint, yet abhorrently icy habitat – Frigg rest their souls – could have found an island just a little farther south? Gobber sighed at the disheartening thought and adjusted his sleeve so that his bandaged stub was all the more noticeable – it was time to get down to business.

He strode with crooked purpose into his familiar domain and was unsurprised that his faithful apprentice was already inside, the fires ablaze as the young Viking put himself to work. The metal he was folding now was entirely unfamiliar to him but then again, he hadn't exactly been working in the shop as much as of late. He was only slightly ashamed to have had taken advantage of the youth's relentless work ethic since he had basically forced him to work from sunrise to sunset, but needless to say he had enjoyed the time off anyways. And it seemed the boy hadn't gotten himself into one spot of trouble in his absence – surprisingly, he had completed every order on the list from what he could tell and was even shaping new weapons to sell just in time for the raids in the coming spring.

Hiccup, unsurprisingly, didn't happen to notice Gobber's entry in the midst of his absorption. The older Viking made sure to stay as quiet as he could until the youth was in a less precarious position; Hiccup flipped the fired object he was holding in his hands and slammed it against the anvil. Gobber didn't want to risk Hiccup becoming startled and end up losing half his face to the molten sword he was currently pounding the living daylights out of. He waited until the boy dunked the sword into the cooling waters before clearing his throat rather loudly, resulting in a quailing shriek that echoed throughout the forge as the boy spun around in surprise.

"What is _with_ you people and trying to kill me?"

The boy did his best to recover as Gobber laughed nervously, more than a little taken back by the boy's terse reaction, "Maybe if ye used yer ears, ye might 'ave heard me."

"Oh right," Hiccup replied sarcastically, turning his back to the older blacksmith as he retrieved his submerged sword, "I'll just turn them on then, just for you."

"Now now," Gobber rebuked, fishing one of his custom prosthetics from a drawer near the back of the establishment, "Dinnae tire yerself out tryin' to do somethin' ye cannae do."

Hiccup shot a glance at the man over his shoulder with daggers in his eyes, "Hilarious."

The young Viking turned and thrust his sword into the blistering furnace once more, pausing only to place it on a crutch before leaving it to reheat.

"What are ye makin'? Says 'ere yer done all o' th' sword orders fer th' meantime."

"I thought I might as well make one for myself," Hiccup replied with a moment's hesitation, "I figured one day I might need it."

Gobber made no effort to hide the expression of surprise on his face, seeing as Hiccup had already turned away from him, "Well, uhh…a good idea as any," Gobber hobbled nearer and took a closer look at the reheating sword, "Ye managed teh pattern weld th' thing pretty good," he turned and gave the youth an approving nod, "Good work."

"Thanks," Hiccup replied, busying himself with the pommel of the sword's damaged hilt. He didn't want his tutor to see the blush that was beginning to colour his cheeks at the comment and he hid it as best he could with his growing russet hair. His locks were becoming more and more unruly by the day and he was surprised he hadn't been hounded down by one of the village widows with nothing better to do because of the state of his appearance – he looked more like a drowned rat than anything, and coupled with the extra four inches in height he had literally gained overnight, he was beginning to look more like an upright pine branch than an actual human being.

Hiccup shook his head to clear the thoughts of his gawky, awkward appearance and tried his best to concentrate on the carvings of the pommel already sketched out on the parchment to his left. It was to be inlaid with designs of dragons, specifically one in particular, and runic symbols describing the fable of his sword. It felt silly, describing his own trials and tribulations into the hilt of a weapon but it was oddly satisfying, his charcoal hiding the letters within the drawings of the legendary Night Fury.

Or soon to be legendary anyway.

Hiccup threw a sidelong glance at Gobber as he continued to admire the sword and he suddenly felt somewhat thankful for the plentiful, albeit miserable island he lived on. Unlike most of the isles conquered by the Norsemen to the east, Berk was chock full of ore-rich mountains and foothills and cliffs. Most of their bursting economy was based on this very fact; ships came all the way from the _Gaels_ archipelagos in need of the valuable metals that were easily mined from Berk to make weapons of steel and sprockets of iron. In fact, most of the swords made in Berk were sold to allied tribes in exchange for gold and fodder, making their tribe one of the most fruitful despite the wicked weather. Hiccup was pleased to say that he had forged many swords for his tribesmen and their neighbouring partners in crime; they were far more difficult to fold and pound than an axe or a hammer, which was far more easily formed from the fires. No, a sword required a great amount of skill that only an expert, or an expert's apprentice, could ever even hope to master.

"It's a little bit thinner than I wouldae done," the older blacksmith mumbled, scratching his ribs with the blunt side of his prosthetic, "It willnae hold up too well hackin' up against bones ye know."

Hiccup fought to suppress the uncomfortable lump in his stomach and turned his attentions back towards the hilt of his sword, "I'm not planning on decapitating anyone in the near future with it, thanks."

Gobber raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Then why are ye wastin' materials if yer not goin' teh kill anythin' with it?"

"I'm making it just in case. Look at me, I need a sword I can actually handle," Hiccup frowned as Gobber lifted the metal from its crutch in the furnace with a pair of prongs, anxiously waiting for the blacksmith's reaction.

"Well, it is light, that's fer sure," he commented raptly, bringing the reheated metal closer to his narrowed eyes, "Th' angle's nice, I'll give yeh that."

Hiccup turned back to his sword's handle bashfully and continued to work on his carvings once again, "Thanks."

After a moment, the boy laid down his hammer and chisels and took up the sword's handle for a minute, weighing it gingerly in his hands. After bandaging up most of the damage the separation of the hilt and the blade had caused, he was man enough to admit that he was a little apprehensive about welding them both back together again without messing up the equilibrium of the weapon. He glanced downward at the mess of cloth wrapped around the burns beneath the sleeves of his tunic and, not knowing what else to do, turned to Gobber for advice.

"That's easy enough," the blacksmith said gruffly after Hiccup finished explaining his dilemma in full, "Finish pounding th' thing and I'll bind them, not a problem. Shouldnae be too hard considerin'."

Hiccup nodded and the two waited in baited silence as the blade turned molten in the heat of the furnace for the final time. Hiccup hobbled over after many minutes and carefully fished the blade from the coals with the same pair of prongs, gripping it unmercifully as he brought it over to his station to continue forging.

With the precision of an archer, Hiccup laid the blows down against the yielding steel with an intensity Gobber had seen before many times but had chosen to ignore. The sparks of yellow and orange scattered like a storm of red-hot confetti in the air, sizzling with a satisfying hiss as they hit the tiled floor one by one. Each calculated slap of the hammer brought with it a kind of jarring pain in Hiccup's skinny bones but the young Viking chose to take small comfort in it, too focused on the angle of the long blade to dwell on the burning ache in his arms. He flipped the blade nimbly and folded the metal even further, adding to it yet another layer of strength to the already slim blade. After a period of five minutes of so, the boy brought the blade closer to his face and examined the metal work closely, pleased to find only very minute flaws in his iron opus. He nodded, pleased with himself, and dunked the metal into the cooling water; Gobber took that as an invitation to come closer and peer over the boy's shoulder, taking his own look at his apprentice's handiwork.

"Aye, it's nice," the blacksmith said, not bothering to stifle the approval in his voice, "Give me a minute teh reattach yer handle and ye'll be as good as gold."

Hiccup nodded and handed over the hilt carefully, his fingers lingering on the pummel for a moment longer than was necessary. Wary, the older blacksmith took the handle from the boy and placed it on the table, eyeing the base and the damage wrought in the metal from above the counter. He analyzed it for another long moment before limping over towards the furnace and fetching a few tools from the fires, his mind a flurry of activity as he sought for the best way to wield the two pieces back together. Hiccup watched in perfect silence as Gobber began to work on the complex challenge lying in front of him, his tools moving with a kind of precision you wouldn't expect from the appearance of the gruff older man.

"When I was walkin' 'ere," Gobber began, his eyes trained on his tools as he began the delicate process, "I saw that girlfriend o' yers stompin' through th' square like she was goin' teh slaughter everythin' in 'er sight. Looked like she was ready teh kill someone, if yeh be gettin' my meanin'," Gobber risked a quick glance at the boy beside him, just long enough to see the colour drain from his face, "I dinnae suppose ye did anythin' teh fire 'er temper?"

Hiccup sighed and leant back against the counter, looking out into the distance through the open shutters in front of him, "Really?"

"Oh yes," Gobber replied, his voice lowered conspiratorially as if it had been the most interesting thing he had seen all day, "She was holdin' 'er axe in a death grip I tell yeh, ready fer battle."

Hiccup simply groaned and ran his fingers through his thick head of hair, "I don't suppose she was looking for me."

"No, I dinnae think so," Gobber answered, "She would 'ave strung yeh up already and dragged yeh off Odin knows where if she were, maybe off teh th' forest or maybeh th' ravines up near th' south side..."

Hiccup deadpanned, the suggestive joke not falling on deaf ears, "Really Gobber? Was that necessary?"

"What?" the blacksmith spread his arms as if declaring his innocence, "Young love is excitin'! Th' stories I could tell yeh about th' old days—"

"—please spare me the details—"

"—like animals I tell yeh! Yer parents I mean, beards of Thor—"

"—oh gods Gobber, please don't—"

"—no wonder ye came about so fast. A little too fast maybe, not that anybody questioned it—"

"—Gobber—"

"—and when they'd sneak off, I tell ye, do yeh know how many times I 'ad to cover fer 'em?"

"Gobber!"

"But I suppose I owed 'im, yer father I mean. I did the same thin' in the back o' ol' Starker's storehouse wit' my own lovely lady back in th' day—"

"—Gobber!—"

"—let me warn ye though. There's nothin' worse than gettin' hay in places it was never meant to be—"

"—GOBBER!"

The blacksmith looked up from his work aghast, "What?"

"For the love of Baldur, I do not want to hear about your…your personal adventures!"

"Beards of Thor, Hiccup! Yer old enough! It's about time ye started foolin' around if ye be gettin' my meanin'—"

"No!" Hiccup ground the heels of his palms into his eyes, "We broke up for Odin's sake!"

Gobber nearly dropped the pommel in disbelief, "What?"

"We're done. Finished. That's why she's so angry."

"Ye…yeh what? Yeh left Astrid?" Gobber was incredulous to the point of hysterics, "Yeh left the very incarnation of Freya 'erself?"

Hiccup pursed his lips, "Thank you for summing that up."

"Yeh idiot! What in Loki's name possessed yeh teh do that?"

"Long story. Now will you fix my sword please? I have somewhere to go."

"Like where?" Gobber threw up his hands in contention, "Yeh better tell me every detail of what went through yer stupid head when yeh decided teh do that, ye scunner. I've got all day and _then_ maybe I'll consider fixin' yer sword."

Hiccup sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, "It wasn't right. I was kidding myself thinking that it was."

"What in Odin's name are yeh talkin' about? Of course it was right – what wasnae right about it?"

"Gobber," now it was Hiccup's turn to look incredulous, "Look at me. You think I could provide for her, let alone a family? I know what my father's been up to – I've seen him talking to Master Hofferson on my way through the Great Hall. And by the look on your face I can tell he's been talking to you about it too."

"Well—"

"I had to stop it before either of us got roped into an agreement we couldn't get out of," Hiccup ground his teeth together, fighting to keep his raging emotions restrained, "She's angry now, but she'll understand. There are others more capable than me right now…maybe in a few years things will be different."

Gobber fought extraordinarily hard to hold his tongue, realizing that every effort he had put into keeping Hiccup as busy as possible had been in vain. Gobber privately chided himself for being such an idiot; the boy wasn't anything like he had been at his age. When he had lost his arm and his leg in the total span of a month and a half, he had been miserable about it, there wasn't any doubt about that. But his master had forced a workload on him like no other and with the welcome distraction he had learnt to get over it. People weren't looking at him any differently; if anything, they were gaping at him with admiration. They didn't see him as incapable or helpless. They didn't see him as a handicapped victim.

He was a dragon fighting hero. And with time, he learnt to accept it.

But he should have known that the same method wasn't going to work on Stoic's boy. He was different; in fact, he was unlike anything their village had ever seen. He was as intellectual as they came, and as thick as the blacksmith may have seemed, he wasn't stupid. In that moment of realization he understood; Hiccup was _trying_ to distance himself from everyone and everything he held dear in fear of rejection, of being finally seen as the crippled burden that he thought he was. Gobber nearly groaned, realizing that he had let all of this happen right under his nose. If only he had paid more attention and seen the signs, read the signals…

"Gobber?"

The old blacksmith was woken abruptly from his reverie and eyed the boy with a painfully vacant expression, trying his best to supress the horror he felt in his gut.

"Dinnae worry, I'll finish up fer th' day. Go off and er…play with yer friends now. I'll find yeh when I'm finished."

Gobber didn't miss the look of mistrust in the boy's eyes as he nodded and turned to leave, exiting out the front doors and into the autumn light. Gobber let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and slumped forwards, his failure finally coming into sharp relief.

He had failed Hiccup.

He had failed Stoic.

And if he didn't think of something to fix this soon, he was about to fail his entire tribe.

* * *

Hiccup didn't go play with his friends like Gobber had instructed him to. He had stopped having play dates years ago; he wasn't three anymore.

Hiccup didn't go and see anyone at all for that matter. He sought to simply walk straight home instead, hobbling as fast as his thin legs could take him. In his acute concentration not to stumble flat on his face he didn't see the blonde blur come at him from behind, flogging him upside the head with the kind of uncouth ferocity he could only imagine coming from the opposite sex.

Hiccup shrieked and grasped at the side of his head with his hands, blinking back the stars that threatened to engulf his vision as he fell defeated to his knees. He groaned and turned his eyes towards his attacker, the pain in his skull prevailing over his surprise.

"Ruffnut?"

She was the wildest of his friends and Hiccup supposed he shouldn't have been shocked when she reached down and dragged him to his feet by his collar. He grimaced as she brought him closer to her face than he would have liked, her distinct height difference striking fear deep within his heart. Hiccup wasn't sure which one he would have preferred more – being clobbered half to death with her fists or with her…_lips._

"No hard feelings," she smirked, narrowing her eyes in a way that could only be described as horrifyingly beguiling, "That was from Astrid. She said you're…eligible now."

Hiccup shuddered at the way the word slipped from her tongue. He should have known better than to think that Astrid would take this lying down.

"Errr…not quite yet..."

"Hmm?" Ruffnut raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing in diameter, "What's that?"

"I said," Hiccup ground his teeth together and took a breath, his senses suddenly filled with the fragrance of the woman in front of him. He turned up his nose slightly and grimaced, "Put me down."

Ruffnut stiffened and conceded to the boy's request, dropping him back onto his feet. He stumbled but managed to keep his footing, gazing upwards at the towering girl with a kind of terror he only reserved for the other gender, "Look Ruff, I've got to get going. Can we maybe have this…err…conversation another time?"

Hiccup barely waited for the girl to nod before scampering off in the direction of his lodge, thankful that she hadn't thought of pursuing him. His prosthetic was nearly killing him by the time he managed to drag himself up the hill towards the huge doors of his home, the metal chafing against the sensitive stub in all the wrong places. He fought the wave of dizziness that threatened to overtake his conscience, grasping at the closest object and reeling against his nausea. He finally managed to shut the doors behind him and ultimately conceded to his body's urgent requests, sinking to his haunches in exhausted self-defeat.

Within half a second his dragon was at his side, the metallic scent of human blood flooding his senses. He nosed his rider's cheek as gently as he could and ran his tongue against the nauseating tuft of fur on the top of his head where he could smell the blood. He could hear his rider screech in protest beneath him and Toothless only took advantage of his sudden thrashing, pinning him beneath his giant body to continue his ministrations. It didn't take long; the small gash was congealed in a matter of seconds thanks to the wads of saliva soaking his hair and upon feeling his human's disdain he gathered him up in his paws.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" the young human grumbled, looking up at the midnight dragon begrudgingly. The beast gurgled in amusement at the sight of his hatchling, his fur sticking up at every odd angle. At least it looked better that way.

The young Viking huffed and fought against his bonds for a moment; the beastly brute refused to budge against his weak wriggling and Hiccup finally conceded, feeling beyond defeated.

"For the love of—" he cut himself off and sighed, slumping in the dragon's impromptu embrace, "Why can't I defeat someone for once?"

Upon hearing his distraught tone of voice, the dragon relaxed his grip just enough for his hatchling to squirm, "Astrid, Ruffnut, you…why can't I beat somebody?" he sighed and then scoffed, shaking his head, "Then again, maybe I should think about learning how to walk straight first."

Toothless didn't like the self-deprecating quality his rider's body language was taking on, "The only time I'm ever good at anything is when I'm on a dragon and with all the dragons leaving…" Hiccup spun around in his binding and faced his dragon, his wide eyes terrified, "You're not going to leave…right?

Of that he could understand and with a glance over his shoulder the dragon provided his rider with everything he needed to know, "I'm sorry Toothless. I…I don't know what else to say."

The dragon let out a burst of breath, drying the damp mess of fur upon the human's skull. He nuzzled the unhurt side of his hatchling's head, trying to comfort him in the only way he knew how.

"Which is why…" Hiccup breathed out, steadying himself, "which is why we're leaving."

The resolution in his voice was jarring to his ears and the Night Fury jerked upwards, following the lines of Hiccup's vision. He turned his scaly head towards his tack and subdued his own flurry of excitement, realizing that this next ride wasn't going to be a normal one, "No one has ever been past Helheim's gate. Not even Eric, and he's the best…well, he was the best sailor this side of Midgard before he got banished. And what the hel, I might just get banished for this too," Toothless caught that tell-tale gleam of crazy in his human's eyes and started wagging his tail in anticipation, "Once I can gather enough supplies and finish up the last details on my sword, we're going on an adventure."

Just the sound of the word was enough to spur Toothless into a bout of commotion. He let his rider go and leap to his feet, his eyes wide with an eagerness he could no longer supress. Hiccup smiled and slowly got to his feet, his movements lethargic in a way Toothless couldn't understand. They were going on an adventure! Shouldn't he be excited? Toothless bumped him in the ribs and caught him with his head as he stumbled, eyes wide in confusion.

"It's just…I don't know. I'm excited but, I just can't…I can't get into it yet. But I'm better off somewhere else than here…and adventures are fun right? I'm sure you've been on tons of adventures."

Toothless could barely supress himself, wagging his haunches in anticipation. His mouth was practically watering.

"We're going to go find the end of the world, maybe fight some giant sea serpents," the boy shrugged offhandedly, finally catching some of the dragon's excitement, "Can't be that hard to kill the son of Loki, can it?"

Hiccup snickered and hobbled over to the hearth, stoking the molten coals with an iron spike. The prodding encouraged the flames to burst from their confines, their light suddenly filling the lodge with brightness, "And then we'll fly off and hang out with some gods, you know, make some important connections, that kind of thing," Hiccup smirked and glanced over his shoulder at his dragon, hope finally beginning to blossom in his heart.

"Let's become legends."

* * *

Gobber is the village gossip. He's the Perez Hilton of Scandinavia. Hah!

Uh huh, you know what it is! An adventure, an adventure, an adventure, an adventure!

I'm such a rapper.

Pfft. Let's be serious.

And for the record, GO PITTSBURGH YAAAAA!

Please review and let me know how you liked the chapter! Always remember, the more reviews I receive, the faster I update!

Love and fluff,

Brontë


	5. Becoming Urðr V

Oh you guys! My reviewers are by far the most generous and sweetest people on this fandom! I can't thank you enough for all of your gracious comments and constructive criticisms. You're all amazing! Cake to all of you!

Speaking of which, my birthday is this weekend! Time for copious amounts of birthday cake and candy! Yay!

However, I will have to apologize in advance; I am in the midst of fighting the good fight against the plague and so the editing process for this chapter didn't go very well. So ignore any and all of the run-on sentences that may have snuck their way in there and I promise that I'll fix all of the ridiculous grammar issues when I'm not dripping obscenely and hacking all over my keyboard.

Read on guys! We've reached the last chapter of the first arc!

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc I : Becoming Urðr**_

_Chapter V

* * *

_

The murkiness of the unsettled night prior sought no repentance as the sun begun to peek above the tumultuous horizon. The seas were choppy and vengeful against the rocky fjords of Berk, leading the only Viking currently roused from his slumbers to assume that a severe storm was coming. The winds were raging heavily from the west and Hiccup couldn't help but wonder for a moment if the gods didn't hate him after all.

He scampered through the vacant square of his village with carefully timed bursts of speed, making sure to weave in and out of houses with deft precision on the off chance he was spotted. He stopped in front of the Great Hall and slipped inside as quietly as he could manage, well aware that at least a quarter of the male population of the village were using their plates and tankards as makeshift pillows from the revelry the night before. He skittered around them as silently he could, wincing every time the flat surface of his metal prosthetic slapped against the stone floor. After moving at an almost painful pace across the span of the Hall he reached the kitchens and slipped inside, heaving a sigh of relief once he finally shut the doors behind him.

He immediately turned around and stuffed a leg of mutton wrapped in cheesecloth into the leather sack he had brought with him, fighting against his guilty conscious as he reached for a mound of sheep's cheese as well. He was likely to lose another limb over this should he ever be caught; stealing from your own tribe wasn't exactly smiled upon on their island, no matter how lax their culture and customs were. Being the settlement the farthest west of the mainland certainly had its perks and Hiccup was plenty ready to take advantage of them today.

Save the landmass of _Grœnland_ up north, no one really had any idea whatsoever about what dwelled further west. The farthest any of his tribesmen had ever ventured was the treacherous rapids of Helheim's Gate, and even then they had barely made it out alive, Red Death or not. It laid at least a day and a half south west of Berk by _drekar_, and beyond that there were the perilous currents of Jörmungand where the waters were so tempestuous that you were as good as dead should you ever get caught in them. No one bothered venturing that far these days anyway; even if they got past the gaping jaws of the great sea serpent, their ships would still be caught in the fervent undertows of the waterfalls that fell and fell until they poured into the very depths of Hel itself.

But Hiccup wasn't really interested in falling straight into Death's arms. No, he had a far more reliable way to travel.

Because even though Hel reigned far below Midgard in the great tree of Yggdrasill, the realms of Asgard floated high. Surrounded by a boundless wall of stone, the young Viking would venture into the very kingdom of the gods, of Odin himself. To think that he would be the first mortal to set foot in Asgard! He smiled knowingly as he stuffed a loaf of bread into his bulging pack; his mother would be there, walking to meet him through the mists of Valhalla. She would tell him that she was proud of him and he would tell her all of his stories, about the Red Death, about Astrid. A pang of guilt racked through his core as he thought about what he would be leaving behind, who he would be leaving behind. He shook his head and sighed, pushing all of his melancholy thoughts into the deepest parts of his mind. He pressed his lips into a thin grimace and tightened the drawstring of his filled sack; _now_ was not the time to be having second thoughts.

He was leaving.

Possibly forever.

Hiccup heaved the sack over his shoulder and slipped from the doors of the scullery silently, doing his best to tip-toe through the hall. He nearly dropped his bag and ran for it when one of the villagers woke from their drunken dreams, only to collapse sideways and fall back asleep again on the table. Hiccup had to fight rather valiantly to keep his quivering knees from collapsing on him, forcing himself to continue his exposed journey out of the hall. He ultimately made it to the doors unseen and slipped out as noiselessly as he could, breathing out another sigh of relief as he all but crumpled against the wood.

Scheme A: complete.

The young rider scanned the village for any stray residents, narrowing his eyes like a hawk. Pleased to see the town all but deserted, the boy continued through the seemingly abandoned roads and scurried into the forge, pleasantly surprise at the sight that awaited him. There was his sword, in all of its seemingly unearthly perfection in his eyes, its blade unpolished but still as smooth as silk. He grasped the pommel with his dominant hand and weighed it carefully, the leather wrapped hilt fitting almost perfectly in his fingers. Nearly bursting at the seams with exhilaration, he flipped the sword upwards within the palm of his hand and watched as it reflected the morning light upon its shaft. He grinned and didn't bother to try and stifle the boyish impulses that rushed through his veins.

He was really going to do this.

Hiccup fished the letter he had prewritten to his master the night before from a pocket in his vest and tacked it to the counter. In it he thanked the blacksmith profusely of his efforts and apologized again and again for his absence. He wrote that he would be back soon but in all honesty he wasn't sure if he was coming back at all. He urged Gobber to find a new apprentice anyway, and thanked him one more time before signing off his name and his clan symbol at the bottom of the wrinkled parchment.

Hiccup had already ransacked the forge for spare parts just in case his prosthetic failed him. He had already stored the care package for Toothless' tack but ended up snatching a few bolts from the shelves in the corner just in case. He slipped them into his pocket and scurried out of the doors as fast as he had come, his eyes still peeled as he kept a watch out for unwanted witnesses.

Scheme B complete.

With all of the speed he could garner from his meagre legs Hiccup ran up the steepest hill in the entire village and snuck back into his home. He could still hear his father's hearty snores from their shared bedroom on the upper floor and Hiccup smiled in silent relief, his plans going positively seamlessly. He threw his bag of food into the already overflowing wicker rucksack with a grunt, pausing only to fish a leather pelt and his outer furs from the top of the stuffed hamper. He wrapped the naked blade of the sword in the reedy leather skin and tied it tightly with the thin strip of hide he had once used as a belt to keep his tunics from catching fire in the forge. He tucked the sword and its makeshift sheath into his belt and threw on his final furs before turning towards Toothless, his tack already on the dragon's onyx scales. The Night Fury was still snacking on the ample amount of fish Hiccup had brought up from the harbours the night before, knowing well enough that the dragon would need a full stomach for the first leg of the flight ahead.

With an air of finality, Hiccup fished the letter for his father from the pocket of his vest and tacked it onto the cooking pot with a droplet of honey. He had already prepared a stew for his father as some sort of morbid parting gift earlier this morning, hoping that his hospitality might at least lessen the sting of his abandonment.

Hiccup shrugged and tried to stifle the hollow ache in his core; at least his father wouldn't have to watch over him all the time. The chief might actually get something important done without having to worry about his partially limbless son. Stoic could pass his responsibilities onto Snotlout, who was honestly much more of a Viking leader than the young rider could ever be. The village of Berk would be in good hands with the Jorgensen family finally at the helm of the chieftainship standing; every Haddock had always instilled the eldest Jorgensen son as their first commander, thus the continuation would remain nearly the same. Hiccup didn't anticipate any sort of uprising; Snotlout wasn't nearly as intelligent as he was, but that alone wasn't what made a great chief.

Leaving his past finally behind him, Hiccup motioned with his head towards the door. His dragon followed his lead and slipped out of the open doorway before him and into the quiet break of day. The air chilled the dragon considerably but he pushed the discomfort out of his mind, sensing enough that this flight in particular meant something a lot more. He watched with gentle enthusiasm as Hiccup hauled the wicker basket onto his back and took one quick glance around the house before leaving it entirely. He shut the door behind him with a heavy heart and took off down towards the village, seeming as inconspicuous as ever in front of the few villagers that were now up and about. To any mere bystander, he appeared to be simply going off to the harbours to gather some fish for his dragon. The only thing that could have tipped anyone off was the flight gear on the dragon's scales, and even then Hiccup knew that the townsfolk weren't anywhere close to having any sort of inkling as to his imminent voyage. They nodded and offered him a wave or two as he ventured further down the village roads, away from the Elite quartier and down into the reaches of the Viking bourgeoisie.

The separation of class didn't mean nearly as much to them as it did to the tribes closer to the mainland and the two blood statuses intermingled like equals on any given occasion. The only way a visitor could tell them apart was by their place on the hill, the houses higher up in the village belonging to the families of richer bloodlines. The lower parish belonged to those of the working and warrior class, their pedigrees being of lesser value. Though many men and woman of the upper hierarchy would wed with those of the lower breed, there was still a select few, the purists, who frowned upon such unions. The marriage of Stoic the Vast and Valhallarama the Gutsy had caused such uproar among the villagers who had then recently moved to the island of Berk that many of them left all together, disgusted with the leader of the tribe. Val had come from a family of hardened warriors of the lesser class, but her aggression and all together vixen-like qualities had won over the heart of every man in the village. Even Gobber had once confessed that he had been smitten with the warrior goddess in all her brazen glory, though no man had even the slightest inclination of asking to court her for fear of her wrath.

It was Stoic who had finally found it within himself to ask the Viking siren to accompany him to a wedding on the upcoming Saturday all those many years ago. After beating him senseless, she had demurely given him her permission to escort her to the reception. Whether it had been love at first punch or first glance, none could ever be sure, but Valhallarama the Gutsy and Stoic the Vast were soon wildly in love and…in other things, whether it be the barns, or the grass, or Biggerson's wheat fields…

Hiccup shook his head to rid himself of Gobber's tale on his conception and made a face. Too many bittersweet memories were running through his mind as he made his way through the winding streets of his village, reminding him of his childhood no matter how bleak it had been. The death of his mother, his first broken nose, the first time he had watched his father set sail off into the horizon… He could feel his heart begin to ache in his chest as he tried to swallow the sentiments of his homeland, of all of the things he would be leaving behind. He tried to soak in every detail of what he saw with widened eyes so that he could look upon his memories when he was far away, wherever the winds would take him. He closed his eyes for but a moment and tried to envision his childhood home, making sure that his memory wouldn't fail him. He smiled slightly as the beams of colourful wood came into view, the hearth, the scullery, the bedroom, his bed, the rafters holding up the ceiling…

When he opened his eyes he found himself stopped dead, three statues carved into the crags of his native island filling his plane of vision. The first, a beautiful giantess maiden with hair that reached all the way to her ankles, was carrying a bucket of water above her flaxen brow. Her chin was angled as if she were glancing behind her, her eyes gazing back towards her two beautiful sisters.

The woman in the middle was seated upon a shard of rock and was stitching a large tapestry that flowed from her lap like a fountain of luxurious silk. On her youthful face was a smile that nearly lit the statue from within, her eyes alight with a wisdom known not to any mortal man.

The third woman was by far the youngest of the three, her hair as wild and as free as the stallion she sat upon. She was adorned with the garments of a Valkerie, her desirable body clothed in swatches of opulent fabric woven from the very hands of Frigg herself. Her eyes were wanton with a yearning she couldn't describe, her gaze inspiring others to crave what she had yet to reach.

The three of them were called Urðr, Verðandi and Skuld, or the Past, the Present and the Future respectively. Hiccup reached out and ran a calloused finger along one of the ripples of the Norn's stony clothes, his eyes slowly following the path upwards before resting on the visage of Urðr herself. The Norn of Fate seemed to be staring down at him, her stone eyes seeing past his and into his very soul. He stepped back as if he had been electrocuted, his body suddenly a flurry of charged power. He had never been one to ask the gods for something but he couldn't help but look up at the three women and ask them to watch out for him in silence, offering them nothing in return but the essence he possessed.

He didn't know where he was going and he didn't know what he was going to do once he got there but he had a feeling that whatever he was going to achieve was going to be good. He didn't know how it was going to be good or whether it was going to be worth all the bad it took to grow into something good but he knew he had to do it nonetheless. His heart was racing inside his chest; there was no going back now. He had to keep going on the path he had chosen for himself and continue following his destiny, no matter how obscure it seemed. He looked back up towards the Norns; only they knew where he was going and what was in store for him.

Hiccup smiled up at the beautiful women one more time before continuing on down the village streets with one particular lodge in mind. He lifted his hand off of the hilt of his sword and reached inside his cloak, fingering the final piece of parchment folded gingerly in the woollen pocket of his vest.

The last letter was for Astrid.

* * *

Astrid had been awake most of the night thanks to a dream that had left her both breathless and inconceivably frightened. Surrounded by her brothers and sisters in the dead of night she didn't dare let out the sob that lurked impatiently behind the pressure in her eyes as she was jolted conscious, her blue irises wide in fear. She let out a gasp of breath as she was startled from her dream, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes as if her very life force had been sucked out of her. She stifled her cry and clenched her sheets with her fists, her heart pumping wildly in her chest as the adrenaline coursed through her body.

She took a moment and upon realizing that she was indeed lying in her bed and not falling to her death off the back of a dragon, she tried to calm her erratically beating heart. She rolled onto her side and curled into a ball, her mind racing to catch up with her panicking body. She tried to remember…it was so real, so many colours…Hiccup had been there, his hand just out of reach…the sky was black and churning, the clouds spinning like a whirlpool in the sky…she tried to scream but no sound escaped her lips as she plunged downwards and downwards for what seemed like an eternity, still reaching for the hand that wasn't there…

She was jostled awake just before she hit the ocean and with a quiet sigh, she lifted up her palm to wipe away the beads of sweat upon her brow. Her great aunt had continuously instructed her to analyze the dreams that she was able to remember, always telling her that there were secret messages in the images the gods sent down during slumber. Astrid did so now, racking her brains for any possible sign – maybe it had simply been another nightmare about the battle of the Red Death? She shuddered as she remembered her dream, realizing that what she had felt was far more real than a mere recollection. Perhaps it was just her conscious reminding her how the chieftain's son had let her down? She frowned and felt her bitterness take over her thoughts – of course that was it.

Over the progression of the past few days Astrid couldn't help but feel a little angry over what the insufferable boy had done to her, insisting on ending their courtship when she was clearly in a relationship with him. Didn't he see that? Couldn't he tell how much she yearned to around him even if he still was a little bony and lame and a total goofball? She liked him! She liked how intelligent he was, clever to an almost unsettling degree. It unnerved her and enticed her both at the same time, her love for the unknown overtaking her common sense every time. She never knew what to feel when she was around the boy, or even when she was merely thinking about him for that matter – she was so obscenely enamoured with the boy that she couldn't even walk straight when she thought of him, no matter how short their time was together.

And now she just wanted to rip his scrawny head off.

The sun had nearly risen from its slumbers and she leapt quietly out of bed before any of her brothers or sisters, knowing well enough that they weren't expected to get up to start their chores for a little while yet. It was Saturday after all – it was their one day of glorious rest, of sleeping in and drinking copious amounts of alcohol the night before. Her father was probably still passed out in the Great Hall and her mother was most likely still asleep in her sewing while she had waited for him to return.

Astrid stripped her sleeping clothes off of her body and paused for a moment afterwards, relishing in the feeling of the morning air against her bare and exposed skin. She shivered, delighting in the tremor that ran from the tips of her hair all the way to her toes. She breathed out silently and began to fish her undergarments from her drawer in the cabinet, sliding them on as quickly as she possibly could. The faster she could whip on her clothes, the faster she could go out and see if her dragon had left to migrate further south. Her Nadder was one of the only dragons left who had yet to leave the island, and Astrid knew the time was coming. The dragon spent more and more time eating and sleeping in the barns now then she ever did before and the look she would give Astrid every time she went to go see her was enough to make the warrior girl want to rip her heart out. She knew that the Nadder wanted to leave desperately but it was almost as if she were too reluctant to leave, her golden eyes always gazing at her with melancholy whenever they parted for the evening.

Astrid finally strapped on her iron-clad skirt but chose to leave her shoulder armour behind, throwing on the thickest knit she owned instead. She tugged the sleeveless cloak over her head; the wool was dyed a deep rose colour that brought out the blush in her cheeks, making it the only shade of pink she would admit to adoring. She hugged the warm material to her lithe body and threw on a pair of woollen mittens before dashing down the stairs and out of her little house into the open air.

The cool October breezes bit into her skin as she set off towards the barn behind her lodge, the young warrior running along the wooden walls of her home before emerging past the cabin and back into the morning light. The sunlight was admittedly weak behind the churning clouds and did nothing to warm her as she ventured closer to the shelter at the back of their property, her heart thudding nervously in her chest. She finally reached the refuge after what felt like an immeasurably long time and she proceeded to throw open the shutters of the windowpane, her arms outstretched and eyes wide and hopeful. She breathed out another heavy sigh of relief; there she was, her dragon curled up in the straw like some domestic cat, humming pleasantly in her sleep. Astrid smiled lightly and closed the shutters, pressing her back up against the wooden siding of the barn. Her dragon was still there for one more day, despite the cool weather, and Astrid could not have been happier.

Something turned in her gut and she peered to her left, the unmistakable pang of intuition beginning to stir inside her heart. She pulled herself upright into a somewhat more dignified position and began to trod over to the double doors of the shelter, her eyes peeled for unwanted guests. She felt as if she were being watched, although she could not see a soul in sight – it was still early yet and there wouldn't be many villagers out and about, of this she knew.

A Terror squawked and plummeted from the top of her house towards the roof of the barn, looking down at her with its wide, lopsided eyes. Astrid frowned and returned its awkward gaze, feeling slightly suspicious of it being there, especially in the cold. Surely her instinct couldn't have been just a simple bout of paranoia? Astrid sighed and tore her eyes away from the small indigo dragon, turning away from its creepy glare. She tossed her fingers through her loose hair with frustration, tugging at the band around her brow as she did so. The leather headpiece needed to be treated again – it was becoming a nuisance now, a simple reminder of her purity and the useless, moronic boy that had left her so high and dry those few days ago.

She jerked her head over her shoulder, that impulse of gut feeling once again churning in her stomach. She looked up and finally saw it, its length sticking out like a sore thumb against the smooth wood of the shelter. The parchment was taunting her as it fluttered against a gust of wind, attached to a nail like a notice of eviction. She seized it from its perch on the entrance of the barn, ripping it from its anchor of steel. She tore the folded portion open and began reading the carefully written runic letters on the page, trying time and time again to ignore the hand that was so unmistakably _his_.

_Astrid,_

_ I just want you to know that I really did appreciate all that you did for me these past few months. You made them bearable and I can't thank you enough. But I have to leave. I don't know where I'm going or if I'm going to return but it's for the better. I won't be around screwing up anymore, especially now that I can't even walk straight. I just wanted you to know that I really, really liked you. I was just too cowardly to say it. I guess you could say that I'm running away, but not really. I'd just really like to go see the rest of Midgard, maybe do something heroic. Not that I'm very good at being heroic. Maybe I'll just stick to exploring. _

_I'm sorry that your Nadder has finally left to migrate. Toothless wanted to say goodbye but she wasn't there. Maybe I'll end up figuring out where they're all going off to, see if they have any friends like us there. Maybe they fly to another realm all together. _

_I'm going to miss you though, more than anything._

_ Hiccup_

Had this been a letter of any other circumstance, Astrid may have found all of his blathering somewhat endearing. However, under the current state of affairs, the young Viking couldn't help but want to rip his letter to shreds. She could feel the anger bubbling within her core already rising, her hold of her body beginning to release. Something in her heart told her to run as fast as she could to the shoreline, to see if he had already disappeared into the never ending horizon. She listened to her impulses and flew as fast as her feet could take her, ignoring the strange comment about her dragon, ignoring the rustle of parchment still locked in her iron grasp.

Astrid skidded around the corner and began sprinting down the streets, her hair flying wildly behind her. A blur of pink and gold, she swung around the final establishments of her village and started leaping up the pebbly slopes towards the top of the ocean crags, her eyes fixed only on the cloudy sky as she scampered over rock and limb. She used every means of travel to grapple up the treacherous incline; she climbed trees and crawled through rocky trails to further her way up the mountain, never once letting her eyes dip from the dark grey skies that were awash above her. The wind was pushing east to west, providing a perfect tailwind for any wayward dragon flying in that particular direction. She snarled and pounded her fist against the closest rock as she spurred herself onwards.

The perfect flying conditions if there ever had been.

She finally reached the top of the peak and peered beyond its rocky face, standing at the very brink before jutting down towards the rock-strewn shore. She scanned the open skies eagerly, searching every crevice of the heavens with her fervent eyes. And just beyond the last island of their archipelago, the isle perfectly situated due west, a black blur could be seen moving farther and farther away as she watched in perfect horror.

They had already departed.

A zephyr of cool air spiralled tightly around her body, tossing her hair and her shawl in every manner of disarray. But her eyes never left that very speck as it departed further and further into the heavens, taking away every fragment of hope that was left in her bones. Hiccup was gone. Toothless was gone. Every chance of winning back that insufferable man was gone.

There were two winds that flew like a torrent around her; the wind that took flight, and the wind that pursued.

And on the wings of flight, as their shape disappeared, Astrid knew he was gone.

* * *

Finally, we come to a close._ Becoming the Past, _the first arc out of three, is finished!

I'm halfway through the writing process of the second arc so I'm going to take a quick two week break to get a little further into it. I'm having a few continuity issues that I have to work out and I know I'll get absolutely nothing done on it this weekend! CAKE!

I would like to know what you thought of this chapter? Did you like the mythos aspect, especially concerning the Norns? How do you feel about the conclusion of this chapter? Are you guys still interested in seeing what comes next?

Birthday present = review?

Love and fluff,

Brontë


	6. Verðandi and the End of All Things

So here it is! Arc Two of the _Horizons_ tale. Good things come to those who wait and after two weeks of re-planning upon re-planning upon re-planning I think I may have finally managed to get a hold of this big fish long enough to fry it.

This arc is significantly longer than the first arc, seeing as how it's sort of the meat in the sandwich per se. In the first arc we needed to establish a relationship, focus in of the past. Now the real stuff begins, with journeys and adventures abound. It'll start off a bit slow (after all, adventures don't get exciting right away), but once we get to the apex of this monster, and I mean that literally, it's gonna be awesome. And I know, because I skipped over the rest of the unwritten arc two during a temporary writer's block and started writing arc three and damn if it didn't turn into something freaking awesome, if I do say so myself!

I'll warn you now, for those of you who are not big accent fans (specifically Gobber's) you may want to shoot me. Go ahead and gripe to me in a review if you hate it, but I'm not going to change it – not only is it an awesome challenge for me to do something like that but it's also a lot of fun. Scottish is my favourite accent to write; I've written some authentic Scottish in my other fandom (Scotty in ST:XI) and it was an absolute blast!

This is the last of the really dialogue based chapters for the meantime. I'm also not ridiculously happy with this chapter. I don't have a beta so let me know if you see any particularly stupid mistakes! And be warned; I rip Stoic a new one during this section. He deserves it as far as I'm concerned and this will probably the last we hear from Stoic for a long, long time.

And without further ado, the aftermath of Hiccup's impromptu departure!

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc 2: Verðandi and the End of All Things**_

_Chapter I

* * *

_

Three days.

Three days had passed since that idiotic, senseless son of a mountain troll flew off the island of Berk and disappeared into the distance and if the bedlam that had ensued was any indication, his absence certainly hadn't gone unnoticed. The villagers were in a flurry at the hands of their confusion; no one was willing to believe Hiccup, of all people, had simply left on his own faint account. Astrid clenched and unclenched her fists as she fought to suppress her murderous impulses, her azure eyes trained on the only two men on the island who vaguely knew anything about the whereabouts of the chieftain's renegade son.

"I know Stoic! I warned yeh that he was goin' teh do somethin' drastic. Th' minute he told meh he decided teh break it off with Astrid—"

"—I'm right here."

"Right…err…" Gobber offered her an apologetic glance that was subsequently ignored, "Well, that should 'ave been meh clue. But teh just up and leave like that Stoic, yeh cannae tell meh that I could 'ave foreseen that."

Astrid couldn't tell whether it was the poor light in the Great Hall simply playing tricks with her eyes, but she could have sworn that the chieftain's russet hair was becoming greyer by the minute.

"He can't 'ave left the island," Stoic bleated weakly, "He must 'ave been taken...or forced, or..." Stoic trailed off and groaned noisily, running his fingers roughly through his auburn hair. If she hadn't known any better, Astrid would have said that his voice was quavering beneath his rumpled beard.

The young warrior woman sighed and frowned with perfectly exposed irritation, her emotions running rampant in her chest, "I've told you already, I watched him go."

Stoic turned towards her, gazing at her with uncertain eyes as if she had only just appeared not a moment ago; too bad she, alongside Gobber, had been trying to convince Stoic the Vast of the obvious for the past few hours.

"No," he repeated, shaking his burly head again in disbelief. Astrid barely kept herself from winding up and slapping the man across the face, if only to enlighten him to the worsening situation at hand.

"Look Stoic, yer boy is gone," Gobber sincerely tried to look at least marginally sympathetic in his explanation but his comrade's mulishness was beginning to grate on his already ragged nerves, "He wasn't forced teh write those letters. All we can do now is try and figure out where th' hel he went."

"He was flying due west," Astrid explained, glancing sidelong at the parchment letter that had been addressed to her on the table, "The only land out there that we're familiar with is _Grœnland_ as far as I know."

"So yeh think he's headin' teh _Grœnland_?"

"No," Astrid scoffed, glaring up at the blacksmith incredulously, "When have you ever known Hiccup to do the logical thing? Smart yes, clever definitely, but logical? And self preserving?" she laughed humourlessly, her bitterness unpleasantly intimidating, "I don't think so. He's gone in search of something new, to go exploring if the letter he wrote to me is anything to go by," she frowned at the still dumbfounded chief and silently willed him to get the picture, "And yours too. And once he gets past the currents of Jörmungand, which I have no doubt that he will considering his mode of transportation, we'll have no way of tracking him down at all."

"Th' ice is already beginnin' teh touch th' north shores. It wilnae be long before we cannae get out o' th' harbour."

"Right. So we're basically stuck. There's no way we can send out a scout ship to the settlements on _Grœnland _on the off chance that he did head up that way – if the ice is already on our shores I can only imagine that they're neck deep in snow by now. Our only shot is to take a ship south west and hope to intercept him resting on one of the chartered islands without getting lodged in the ice."

"That is, if he hasnae already managed teh get 'imself killed."

Astrid glared daggers at the blacksmith, unwilling to even think of the possibility, "Not with a Night Fury on his side. No matter how domesticated he might have seemed around Hiccup, he's still a dragon and a fierce one at that."

"And how do yeh know that?" Stoic grumbled pointlessly, his lips stretched into a half hidden pout.

"I've hunted with it," she replied simply, making fleeting eye contact with the mountain of a man in front of her.

Stoic was unconvinced, "And what if it gets hungry? There's a fresh meal sittin' right on its back for Odin's sake!"

"Are you blind?" Astrid cried. She knew that on any given day she would have been skinned alive for her insolence, especially towards the chief, but she was at such a point of semi hysterics that she was quite unwilling to care, "Toothless loves Hiccup – he needs him to fly, for the love of Thor! Hiccup getting lost between the jaws of his dragon is the last thing you should be worrying about!"

"The dragon is the reason he left!" Stoic exclaimed in response, puffing out his chest in inflated supremacy; the entirely unruffled warrior goddess sitting before him looked on undeterred.

"No he's not!" Astrid shot back, "You heard Gobber – Hiccup can't get over the loss of his leg! He thinks it makes him even more useless than he was already brought up to think about himself! Gods!" Astrid reeled, her words sounding preposterous in her ears as she fought to understand the boy's way of thinking, "What the hel was going through Hiccup's head?"

"Yeh got me," Gobber replied quietly, his brows pressed together in concentration, "Th' boy's got a mind o' his own."

Astrid could do nothing but nod in agreement; her thoughts were somewhere else already, running over the words the subject of their heated debate had left for them on parchment only three sunrises ago. All of the letters, Gobber's, Stoic's and her own, contradicted one another consistently, sometimes going as far as declaring three separate and completely different things. Did he really think that they weren't going to investigate his disappearance and read over the letters together? Was he really that naive? The entire village was up in arms over the departure of the boy who had nearly one-handedly brought down the Red Death and almost lost his life because of it. He was the village hero, the chieftain's son – the only villager who wasn't all that concerned was Snotlout, which made Astrid all the more furious. The slab of meat had been throwing himself at her at every interval since the news of her ex-lover's disappearance, if that's what he could be called, and if 'Lout hadn't been of such a high bloodline she might have already mangled his face right then and there. His over-confidence was absolutely sickening – she would move off of her homeland if he was given the position of chieftain which, now that Hiccup was officially out of the picture, was a position that was rightfully his.

With her lips upturned in disgust, Astrid dragged her thoughts away from her inner musings and back to the present. She rolled her eyes when she realized that Gobber was trying to convince Stoic that his son was gone once again. Not missing and not lost, the blacksmith tried to reason with him. Hiccup was gone – on his own, on free accord this time; no accidents, no kidnapping involved.

"Gobber, you said he was making a sword right?"

The blacksmith seemed to be startled by the question. His unruly eyebrows nearly shot past the confines of his forehead as he considered the question she had asked him, "Yeh, although I should 'ave known the moment he showed it to me that he was goin' off teh do somethin' stupid with it. Said he didn't want teh kill anyone, just wanted it fer self defence."

"Sounds like Hiccup," Astrid nodded and frowned, knowing from visual experience that he was more than a little challenged in a situation that required him to hold a sharpened weapon in his hands, "Can he use it?"

"Probably without hackin' 'is own head off," Gobber replied, catching the warrior goddess's ill portent implication, "With a bit o' luck he might actually be able teh lob somebody's arm clean but yeh know as well as I do that, well..." he trailed off, looking a bit helpless in his explanation.

The expression on Astrid's face assured him that she understood.

"Have you ever seen him use a sword?" she enquired quietly, her worry beginning to leak into her voice.

"Ah, no. I dinnae think so," Gobber shrugged, the guilt in his gut clearly showing in his face, "If he's any good he mustae been practicin' in secret 'cause I've never seen 'im. Th' only time I know that he's been workin' wit' a sword is when he's forgin' one. But he's very good at it if yeh mind me sayin'. Th' detailin' he put into that thing alone, and th' drawings, Baldur's ear! If he put that amount o' effort intae his everyday work I could put th' prices up another dozen fodder!" Gobber grinned and then sighed, his animated humour suddenly deflated, "He had been workin' on th' design fer some time if th' sketches all over th' walls o' his workshop are anythin' teh go by."

"Design? For what?"

"Fer the sword! Fer the hilt!" he waved his meaty hands around for emphasis, "Had all these letters hidden in it, and it looked just like his beast in th' engravings. A fine bit o' handiwork, I tell yeh."

"Did you keep all of his drawings?"

Gobber scoffed, looking at her as if she were mad, "O' course I did! Th' one time I threw a handful o' them out he moped around fer a week! Couldnae get anythin' done!"

Astrid glanced sideways, considering the new influx of information carefully. There was a chance, however slim, but...

"They're still in his workshop then?"

Gobber looked at her again with confusion, the bewilderment written all over his weathered features, "I told yeh, I didnae move 'em."

"Great," Astrid nodded forcefully and spun around on her heels, the look of a warrior's determination suddenly painted on her slender lips. She strode out of the Great Hall with all the purpose of the chieftain himself and left the men behind her in the dust – the two of them were still unsure of as to what her line of questioning had lead her to believe. It wasn't until the weakening sun illuminated her silhouette as the door shut behind her that Gobber realized what the hel she had been talking about. Hoisting himself off of the bench with far more effort than was necessary, he grabbed the chief by his collar and left in hot pursuit.

When the two seasoned warriors finally caught up with Astrid they were already too late; the young shield maiden had dropped herself unceremoniously in the chair that had once been solely Hiccup's property, her stance anything but victorious as she pursed her lips at the walls in defeat.

"There's no clue about where he's going hidden in his drawings. He even took all of his notebooks with him," she muttered, flicking a piece of errant parchment with her fingernails, "I figured he would but...I hoped he might have left something behind that could have given us some sort of clue..."

Gobber looked around quickly, analyzing some of the sketches pinned to the walls, "He cannae 'ave taken them all. He spends every spare minute writin' nonsense into his books o' ideas. Odin knows he's kept a thousand at least!"

Astrid glanced up at him, catching the blacksmith's eye, "Do you know where he keeps them all?"

It was at this moment that both Viking warriors turned towards Stoic simultaneously, staring at him with a look that could only be described as one of great urgency.

"What?" the great mountain of a man threw up his arms in innocence, "If we had a bookcase somewhere full of them hidin' in the house I think I would have known about it."

"Does he 'ave any hidin' places in th' house though? Any places that would be good fer...hidin' things, yeh know?"

Astrid rolled her eyes.

"I don't know," Stoic muttered once more, "I tried not teh pay attention to his eccentricities as a lad, hopin' they might go away. The only place I can think of is the cupboards – it's the place where he used teh hide as a lad, playin' games with Val or whatever they used teh do together. But they're full of weapons and fishin' gear now and I doubt he'd keep any of his pages of insanity at the house anyway."

"So they must be here then," Astrid muttered, her eyes scanning the little back room yet again. Nothing seemed out of place, no paper, no charcoal, not even a leather shaving on the floor to mar the seamless organization of the recently tidied room.

"Has teh be," Gobber replied, venturing further into the cramped, modest space, "Could be under a floorboard or somethin'."

The blacksmith carefully ripped off each one of the sketches from their pins in the wall as if he expected some sort of secret passage to be hidden beneath them. He couldn't help but feel just a little bit disappointed when he found nothing except grey stone and uneven wood. Astrid frowned as she followed his movements, trying with every fibre of her being to will her eyes into seeing something, anything.

Nothing.

"Look," she said with finality, the impatience in her voice grating against her ears, "We're not going to find anything with all three of us packed in here like meat. I'm the smallest so I'll stay in here and continue searching. You two go and look in the rest of the smithy – you might find something there."

Gobber released the wad of papers in his hand onto the desk and nodded, "Right yeh are lass. Holler if yeh find anythin'."

Astrid grit her teeth in reply and didn't wait to watch as the two seasoned Vikings left the crowded room; she quickly tossed the chair she had been sitting on aside and dropped down to her hands and knees, rapping against the wooden floorboards with her knuckles in an attempt to find a hollow piece.

Crawling towards the less occupied corner of the little room, Astrid thought back to one of the conversations she had shared with Hiccup in the Great Hall before he had lost his clever mind and left her behind. It had been casual enough; she had been seated a few people away from Hiccup, with the entire table stuffed with townsfolk eager to learn the merits of proper flying. They listened with willing ears, hoping to soak up as much information as they could from the forthcoming chief of their island. Only every so often had he been allowed to escape from the working confines of the forge during the fall season and when he was, he usually found himself in the Great Hall, surrounded by men and woman who decidedly hung on his every word.

"When it comes to direction," he had explained, his fingers folded in front of him as he conducted his informal lecture, "You'd be an idiot to try and steer. Go ahead and try if you like, but there's a pretty huge chance that you'll only end up getting yourself thrown off. Your dragon will fly wherever it pleases – its got the wings you know, not you. But they're not stupid either. You've got to ease them into the movement, into the direction you'd like to go and trust me, they'll get the hint."

"How do you do it?" one of the villagers implored, voicing the very question that had been avidly running through each of his student's boggled minds.

"Try leaning a little in the direction you'd like to go, not far enough to fall off though. Just swing a little in your saddle so that your dragon feels the shift of weight and they'll be sure to go in that direction, if they're feeling up to it."

"And what if I own a stubborn beast?" someone grumbled from the crowd.

"Nobody _owns_ a dragon," Hiccup urged, his expression suddenly darkening, "If anything, they own us. Don't force yourself on a dragon – there's no use getting on the back of one if it refuses to respect you."

A murmuring of contemplation rippled through the crowd as the boy's tone of voice pierced their thoughts. Even Astrid felt a shiver run past her spine as she took a quick look at the boy's prominent profile, his serious expression slightly silhouetted by the fires in the hearth.

"Now," he cleared his throat, successfully regaining the group's attention, "Back to direction. When you're up in the air, make sure to keep an eye out. Most dragons have fantastic eyesight. However, with the exception of the Zippleback, which of course can have eyes in two places at once, dragons have a lot of blind spots. Nadders and Nightmares are extremely predatory and are less adaptable to night flying. Gronkles, on the other hand, prefer to fly in darker conditions and have some trouble seeing properly when it's really bright out. So be mindful – they have their strengths and weaknesses, just like us," Hiccup took a moment to turn to his dragon, scratching him beneath the plates on his jaw as he sat vigilantly behind him, "Night Furies can see well in all conditions but they thrive and prefer to get things done at night, which is probably why I can't seem to sleep for longer than an hour or two every night without getting prodded in the face to go flying."

The group laughed that the young rider's joke and the beast beside him responded in kind, his trademark grin plastered all over his scaly face. The toothless smirk only served to make the villagers laugh even harder and Astrid could tell that the dragon was clearly enjoying the attention.

"But one of the most important things," Hiccup continued once the laughter had died down, his body hunching over conspiratorially, "is this: when you're flying your dragon you have to think about your weakest points just in case you were to be attacked. So where do you think you're the most vulnerable?"

The crowd paused, smoke practically churning from their ears and they fumbled in deep thought.

"From the bottom?" someone put forward.

"Nope," Hiccup replied, obviously anticipation that particular answer, "Dragons have great sight in front of them and beneath them."

"Is it from behind?"

"Not that one either," he said, "Dragons can easily sense and hear when the air behind them is being disrupted."

Hiccup gave them a few more seconds but when none of the villagers seemed to have come up with a competent answer he felt himself kind enough to indulge them.

"It doesn't matter where we are – on the ground, in the sky, in the water..." he sighed quietly, as if reminiscing on something before coming back to the present, "Sometimes we could save ourselves a lot of trouble if we just took the time to look up."

Back on her hands and knees again underneath the missing boy's wooden desk, Astrid suddenly found herself craning her neck and staring upwards. The young warrior flipped herself onto her back and stared in victory as she gazed up underneath Hiccup's desk, a small smile gracing her tired features.

There, right before her eyes, was a trap door in the wood.

* * *

"Beards o' Thor Stoic! Will yeh lay off fer two seconds?"

Five minutes was all it took for the mountainous chief to make a mangled mess of the pristine organization both blacksmith and apprentice had managed to establish in the ramshackle smithy and Gobber couldn't help but make a sorry observation about the similarities between father and son. Both were as clumsy as a three legged sow on an ice sheet – the only time the two of them ever displayed a semblance of balance was when they were in their element, absorbed in their craft. Mind you, Hiccup had certainly picked up the finer qualities of sword crafting as well as flying, something that Stoic wouldn't be able to accomplish even if it was to save his life. So similar and yet so different, the old blacksmith mused silently, forcing himself to keep his reflections to himself.

"I can't help it!" Stoic bellowed half heartedly, his body slumped over as he glanced at the wreckage in his wake, "My boy is somewhere out there and he's probably gettin' himself killed as we speak!"

"Yeh don't know that." Gobber countered.

"Yes I do."

"No yeh don't."

"Yes I do!"

"No, you don't!" Gobber held back the urge to sigh dubiously and rolled his eyes instead, "Why do yeh 'ave so little faith in th' boy? Hasnae he proved already that he can take care o' 'imself?"

"It's not that I don't have any faith in him Gobber, it's just that—"

"Just what? Yeh dinnae trust 'im? Yeh left him teh fend fer 'imself ever since he started showin' more interest in searchin' fer trolls then lobbin' off heads. Why th' sudden change o' heart?"

Gobber knew he had finally struck a chord; the man, his best friend, crumpled perceptively before him, even if it was the last thing he ever wanted to put him through. But Gobber knew, along with every other soul on the island, that the only reason Stoic hadn't left the boy to squander off on some deserted island was because of the startling resemblance between him and Valhallerama. It killed him to see nothing but the ghost of his departed wife in the eyes of his useless son, Hiccup the Useless, Hiccup the Cursed.

But when it came down to it, the decision between his own blood and his dignity, Stoic chose the latter. Better to ignore the problem than face it when it came to something other than the familiar throes of warfare. He tripped and stumbled over fatherhood as he had tried aimlessly to cope with the son he thought could never be – only Gobber had been privy to the drunken nights where the veil of Viking pride came crashing down, exposing the clumsy, dispirited and utterly heartbroken man that truly lied beneath.

Not that his leaderships skills ever suffered because of his ungainly son; on the contrary, with Hiccup basically forced into an apprenticeship beneath the only man he sincerely trusted, Stoic thrived. The village remained strong despite the growing number of dragon raids purging the island of livestock and shelter. Patches were build, fodder was bred, fields were sowed; it was only when Hiccup became a teenager that things started to go irrevocably downhill.

Gobber indulged the lad as much as he was able, even if in the back of his mind he knew that Stoic wouldn't approve. He should have tried to stop him but the boy had so much time to himself and the blacksmith couldn't help but pity him, knowing full well that he was the only one in Hiccup's life who would actually speak to him without berating him until he withdrew completely senseless. So Gobber tried as hard as he could manage to be the father figure – and friend – Hiccup would never have and together, working as one in their smithy, they were happy.

But Gobber could tell that Stoic could never quite forgive himself for how he treated his son before the events of the Red Death and Gobber couldn't really blame him. The blacksmith knew that the chieftain was thankful for his fostering care but he knew that he was a little jealous, knowing full well that Hiccup considered Gobber more of a father than he would ever be; in comparison to the three sentences Hiccup had written to his father, Gobber had received more than two pages. And as much as Stoic was trying to make up for all of the time he criticized his son for simply being who he was, no amount of ignorance could save him from the fact that he would never be able to take back time and heal the old wounds he had engraved himself.

Stoic looked over at him now and the blacksmith knew what the chief was thinking without having to speak. He was at that precarious point where Stoic finally hit the wall of reality with painful realization – the hurt in his eyes was evidence enough that the father of the son he never accepted finally understood.

"Look Stoic," Gobber said at last, draping his good arm over the shaken man's shoulders, "Let's head back teh th' hall, grab somethin' teh eat. There's nothin' hidin' here."

Stoic nodded with a blank expression and Gobber lead him out of the smithy without another word. It was only when they hit the muted daylight that Stoic straightened in his colossal stance and walked as proudly as one could do under the circumstances, just like a chieftain should. He strode through the streets of Berk and through the throngs of townsfolk in the square; Gobber walked at his side as the man grunted in acknowledgement to those who greeted him, never betraying the emotions churning inside of him. Gobber was amazed that he could just bury his feelings beneath a well of Viking indifference as if they never existed inside of him even when the blacksmith knew he was reeling inside. Perhaps it was a trait bred into the lines of those who were born to lead; Gobber would never get the chance to know.

They entered the Great Hall silently and sat down at their usual table, two frowning men side by side in the suffering din. One of the maids came to their table with a stein of ale in each hand which they both took with grateful thanks. Stoic nearly swallowed the majority of his drink in one go and Gobber knew immediately that this was going to be one of those nights; the battered warrior drank his own pint slowly, fingering the folded parchment hidden in the pocket of his mantle. Ultimately, he brought the letter out into the firelight of the chamber and pressed the parchment between the pads of his calloused fingertips with a frown.

He read it over once, then twice before finally laying it flat upon the uneven wood and staring at it as if it were the more compelling puzzle in all of the Norse countries he had ever known.

"Odin's eye Hiccup, where th' hel did yeh go?"

It was a rhetorical question he had been asking himself for three days now but for some unspoken reason he waited for an answer none the less. Maybe the gods would give him a sign, point him in the right direction even when he was helpless to go after him. The ice would cover the harbour within a week's time and with that, their boats would be rendered utterly useless.

There was a rustle of fabric from behind that sounded close enough to bestow him with enough suspicion to turn around.

His eyes widened.

And with the kind of smile that gave grown men nightmares, the Elder Gothi grinned and laughed.

"I think I may just have the answer you seek."

* * *

So? What did you think? I'm actually quite nervous about this chapter! It's the beginning of a new arc and I have the butterflies a little bit. Did you like it? Did you hate it? Let me know! I'm really quite anxious about your opinions... :S

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

Love and fluff,

Bronte


	7. Verðandi and the End of All Things II

Hey guys! Thank you so much for all of the positive praise and reviews. Without you, this story would never have made its way onto the internet and in front of the **600 VIEWERS** who tuned into the last chapter. Christ on a cracker, that's ridiculous!

In this chapter we check in with our heroes and see what they're up to. Adventures are never very exciting at the beginning, but I think Hiccup is going to get an abrupt head start.

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc 2: Verðandi and the End of All Things**_

_Chapter II

* * *

_

It was like something out of a half remembered dream.

He had imagined this exact scenario many times before, with the oceans below him and the stars far above his head. The pack on his back was a weight he was willing to carry into the unknown, alongside the only friend who had ever truly accepted him for who he was. It seemed like an eternity ago when his only problems had been living out a double life, one of secrecy and one of deception.

But things had changed.

Probably for the worse.

It was nearly impossible to see anything as the two explorers soared in complete darkness amongst the clouds, flying steadily with the eastern wind at their backs. Hiccup's eyelashes felt as if they were almost frozen together, no thanks to the drops of cold water that swam through the seemingly solid clouds. All his life he had imagined that the swirls of opaque mist would feel like a coat of sheep's wool, spongy and supple beneath the weight of his palms. And although he hadn't minded the sudden bursts of moisture during the balmy summer months, he was definitely feeling the disenchantment now.

Toothless waved his wings forcefully and, thanks to the extra momentum, they burst through the tiers of butter cream clouds. Hiccup's posture softened slightly as they finally made it back into the light, soaring soundlessly through the frosted, open air. The young explorer let a visible breath of relief pass through his lips and started blinked wildly, forcing his eyes to adjust to the soft moonlit glow.

Toothless felt his rider relax marginally on his back and slowly banked downwards, soaring closer to the bed of clouds sprawled out beneath them like a celestial landscape of swirling hills and vales. Hiccup wasn't fooled by the seemingly solid terrain and took a moment to breathe deeply, glancing up at the sky. His discomfort momentarily receded as the magnificence above him overtook his senses, the heavens suddenly that much closer to his eager fingertips. The stars glittered like molten gold in the moonlight, providing him with the motivation he needed to continue his quest, though mundane as it had become.

They were rapidly approaching the precarious currents of Jörmungand, something that would have taken them weeks to do by boat. They were planning on resting somewhere before reaching the treacherous rapids during the morning and then sleeping for most of the duration of the afternoon. Toothless, though comfortable with travelling in the daylight, was nocturnal by nature and his guarded disposition urged him even more to travel only at night, much to Hiccup's disdain. He had trouble changing his sleeping patterns to one more suited for their quest and he felt more than a little apprehensive about leaving all of the seeing up to his dragon. Under the cover of dark, Hiccup wasn't able to see more than a few inches in front of his face unless they chose to soar above the cloud cover, and even then it was difficult unless the moon was full.

Hiccup closed his eyes and pressed himself closer to the leather saddle strapped onto the dragon's scales, hoping to absorb some of Toothless' molten heat. His fingers felt like they were frozen solid into mitten shaped ice cubes and the rest of his appendages weren't faring much better. For a moment, he almost considered turning Toothless around and heading back home.

But only for a moment.

Hiccup leant slightly in his saddle and Toothless peered up at him in acknowledgement, dipping down as fast as he could manage through the layers of thick, icy clouds. Hiccup tried his best to steel himself against the damp chill but found that no amount of acclimatization could have prepared him; the brutality of the freezing cold clouds never failed to chill him to the very bone.

They finally emerged on the other side of the thick haze and once again, Hiccup lost all ability to see. He closed his eyes and trusted his dragon to find an island to rest on, even if it meant another hour in the consuming darkness. The sudden blindness made him anxious and claustrophobic, and Hiccup tried to hide his distress as much as he could manage in hopes that his anxiety wouldn't rub off of Toothless. Hiccup knew first hand that there was nothing quite as horrible as a panicking dragon.

After what felt like hours in the frightening darkness, Hiccup felt Toothless prepare to land. The young rider unconsciously helped the dragon restore his balance, the movements of his hip and knee against his prosthetic almost second nature to him now. The Night Fury folded his wings back and dove down onto the ground, the hard surface violently jarring the blind human bundled on his back. Toothless warbled quietly and nudged at him gently with his nose, beckoning Hiccup off of his back so that he could tear down a tree branch or two and hopefully start a fire.

Hiccup grappled sightlessly as he sought for a place to sit in the absolute darkness, his heart pounding in his chest as he finally collapsed onto the snow covered ground. He listened with heightened senses as Toothless ventured into whatever forest they had managed to land in, and cringed as the sound of splintering branches filled his ears. Toothless deposited them with a crash somewhere in front of him, near enough that one of the limbs slashed across his face, splitting the skin on his chin. He cried out in a mixture of surprise and pain, grasping his bleeding jaw in one hand and pushing himself to his feet unsteadily with the other.

"Light them for Odin's sake!" Hiccup exclaimed as he backed away from the perceived mass of boughs before him, urging the dragon with his free hand to use his fire and set the branches aflame. Toothless yelped and started towards him before stopping in his tracks, the glare of reproach on his rider's face evidence enough that he should probably just listen. He pinned his ear plates back apologetically and let a tiny spark escape his scaly lips, finally allowing his human to see. The smell of iron stung the air as the fire took to the branches and Toothless galloped over to him as fast as his tired limbs could manage, using his tail to force the human to collapse into his grasp. Hiccup squealed in protest as two giant dragon paws wrapped themselves around him and he braced himself for the slimy encounter he knew was about to happen next.

The superficial wound was coagulated within seconds but all of the gain wasn't worth the bucket of dragon saliva that soaked his clothes and dampened his hair. He groaned but wasn't allowed out of the death grasp until the dragon was sure his human wasn't bleeding anywhere else. After a few minutes of poking and prodding and general irritation on the part of Hiccup, the dragon finally let him go and allowed him to approach the fire, but only barely.

"Was that really necessary?" Hiccup grumbled, mussing his hair with his exposed fingertips in the direction of the fire. He stepped closer to the flames and removed his outer fur, holding it out so that it would dry; there was dragon slime all over it and Hiccup didn't think it would be particularly pleasurable to sleep with a damp coat over his body. It wasn't long before his tired arms gave out on him and he wrapped the soggy fur around his shoulders anyway, nearly collapsing back onto the ground.

A sudden weight fell over him despite pulling the woven wicker basket off of his back. He tried to ignore the wave of dread that rolled over his thoughts like an avalanche, closing his eyes to bite off the astringent sting. It passed after a minute or two, leaving Hiccup drained and confused; _what was that?_

He swallowed his nausea and pulled out a large spool of leather, laying it upon the ground for him to stretch out on. He barely took notice as his dragon padded forward and curled up behind him, shielding him from the glacial eastern winds. He hauled out another fur and pulled it over his body to keep him warm despite the two furnaces surrounding him on both sides; had there been some sort of cave or shelter, Toothless would have certainly flown them there. But tonight, he had nothing but the cloudy sky to look up at, and its clammy depths were sure to liberate a heavy stream of snow the moment he fell asleep.

He closed his eyes, careful to hide them in the crook of his jacket sleeve so that he would not be awakened by the rising sun once dawn arrived. He sighed and rolled over onto his side, only to be jarred wide awake once more by the painful metal hilt of his sword stabbing him in the abdomen. He let out a hushed cry of pain as he flipped onto his back and stared up at the sky wide eyed, trying his best to fight off the sting of agony that threatened to make his eyes water in a way that would be most unbecoming. He bit his lip as the throbbing began to ebb away and Hiccup took the opportunity to unlatch the sword from his side, wrenching it out of his leather belt to place alongside of him.

He breathed out and watched as his breath came away in a cloud of vapour, swirling upwards and ultimately disappearing in a gust of wind. He followed it with his eyes as it took a few errant leaves in its grasps and Hiccup took a moment to simply let the world go by. Perhaps it was an omen from the gods, a sign that he should simply trust the wind to take him wherever he was destined to go. The wind was his shepherd now, and for a moment he couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic.

When he had taken his first flight with Astrid, he had expected to be his last; after all, he was prepared to sacrifice himself for the life of his dragon, even if it meant losing everything. And he did lose everything, if only for an instant, until the one woman who had never spared him a second glance finally talked some sense into him. But it was up there, when they were lost amongst the sun kissed clouds that Hiccup truly realized the gravity of his situation.

He tugged his sleeve over his eyes and rolled onto his side again, this time facing Toothless who was already blissfully fast asleep. He swallowed thickly and tried to imagine that he was back in that moment again, the wind in his hair, her arms wrapped around his chest as they floated against the summer breeze and into the aurora borealis, away on the clouds.

He imagined what her skin must have felt like when she had pressed her cheek to his from behind; her hair was flying everywhere when he had peered back at her, her blonde tresses loosened and wild like the warrior goddess that she was. When he would get his chance to kill the great serpent Jörmungand, Hiccup would tell Odin himself when he landed in the realm of Asgard that Astrid was the most beautiful woman there ever was. He would urge him to ask her as a Valkerie when she came to Valhalla, though Hiccup would beg that she be given a long and wonderful life. He smiled regretfully in his half-conscious slumber, his hopes bittersweet that she would find a suitable husband and have a family up until she became an Elder herself.

He hoped that Astrid would understand; it had been four days now, nearly five sunrises to be precise, and he tried to assure himself that leaving Berk behind had been the right thing. After all, he had always been somewhat of a curse to the village; his nickname had reached his ears after many seasons of cold silence, after all. Hiccup the Cursed certainly was fitting for a boy who only seemed to bring damage in his wake. He may have been Hiccup the Hero now, but it wouldn't have been long before they saw him for who he really was and exiled him again.

I mean, surely they didn't think that all of their years of cruelty would just go away? Hiccup rolled over onto his back and tried to ignore the torments that sought to overtake his mind – for so long he had been ridiculed, beaten, belittled, mocked, scorned...and then suddenly praised? It was too quick of a transformation, even for a boy who sought to revolutionize. But what could a boy, a mere boy of weakened stance and minute size, do to stand a chance? To harmonize? To transform?

To change?

And for an island that was known for their abundant and copious amounts of stubbornness issues, change was wrong. And somehow he had managed it.

Hiccup let a swell of pride wash over him as he shifted in his makeshift bed, a small smile playing gently on his features. Despite everything that had been put up against him, every barrier, every wall, he had done it. He had changed it. It had changed him.

Perhaps the Gods didn't hate him so much after all.

* * *

When Hiccup woke up a little later that morning he found himself to be completely unaccompanied, which was something he knew was nothing to concern himself with. The lack of heat coming from both sides of his body was probably due to the dragon's need to gather more kindling if the current condition of their fire was anything to go by. The young explorer moved onto his side in his snug cocoon of furs and barely cracked open one of his eyelids, unwilling to let the cascade of light past his eyelashes. He groaned as the first bit of sunlight nearly blinded him outright and chose to collapse back underneath his furs once more, too reluctant to get his tired limbs moving after all.

Having witnessed his rider's ultimately futile efforts to wrench himself out of his borrowed animal skins from the boundaries of the forest, Toothless decided to let him sleep until the shadow of the closest tree reached his paws. He took that time to study his surroundings more closely than he had in his hasty landing, analyzing the vibrations beneath his paws. If there was some sort of large animal prowling around what seemed to be a moderately small island he couldn't feel it, not that it would have approached them anyways. A dragon such as himself was quite often the cause of more heart attack related deaths than ones that actually required any physical undertaking on his part. It was oddly satisfying to know that, at least in his case, looks could kill.

The shadows of the towering pines quickly reached the apex of his pudgy claws and with an upturned lip that looked more like a human's smug grin than anything remotely draconic, the Night Fury sashayed over to his prone rider and promptly scared the life out of him.

"AHHHHHH!"

Hiccup nearly leapt to his feet as dragon saliva continued to slither into his ear canal, cursing and swearing all the while. Forgetting about the lack of prosthetic crutching his left leg, he soon found himself flat on his behind and with his chuckling dragon smirking on top of him.

"Toothless! Gods, that's disgusting. I swear you useless reptile, you'll pay for this! Agh!"

Unable to move on account of the two giant paws suddenly pinning him down onto his back, Hiccup didn't really have much of a fighting chance to take hold of his prosthetic, owing that he found it of course. He didn't count on it hanging off the tip of his supposed ally's tail; the accused swished it around once or twice with an expression on his features that looked as if he were saying, _'Looking for this?'_

Hiccup heaved a heavy sigh and finally stopped squirming, closing his eyes in both tiredness and defeat. It was far too early for roughhousing, or late for that matter; Hiccup didn't really feel like trying to tell what time it was from the movements of the sun. The dragon above him smiled victoriously and loosened his hold on his favourite pet, only to nearly crush him in what the Night Fury perceived to be a gentle embrace. Hiccup began to flail wildly as the dragon's two front legs began to practically throttle him with love and luckily Toothless got the picture, promptly rolling onto his back so that Hiccup could be smushed into his chest with emphatically less pressure.

"You do realize I hate you right?" Hiccup muttered in his signature monotone against the Night Fury's scaly hide. The dragon lolled his tongue happily and brought his elated face closer to the entirely unimpressed human.

"Fine. Have it your way. Kill me with kindness. Then you'll never get off this island."

The dragon made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a scoff and he proceeded to lift his huge head off of the frosted grass, throwing him a look of self-satisfied condescension.

"Oh shut up you brainless lizard," Hiccup tried with all his might but even he couldn't withstand the powerful force that drove those incessantly lovable puppy dog eyes to coerce him into submission.

"Yeah, yeah. I love you too buddy."

After a moment or two, Toothless felt satisfied enough to release Hiccup and set the crumpled human gently onto the ground. Before letting go of the unstable boy however, he fetched the human's metal prosthetic by bringing around his tail, and held the little device in the air. He quickly provided him with it, knowing firsthand how important the tiny piece of squeaky metal really was, and dropped it softly into his outstretched arms. The boy thanked him with a huff and collapsed against Toothless' flank in order to pull on the walking device, taking his time in attaching the leather straps onto his thickened stub.

As the dragon observed him he noticed that the little nub of human flesh was looking much healthier than the last time he had taken the time to stare at it; where it had once been covered in swollen, red-looking welts and cuts, it was now smooth and beige coloured. If anything, the only indication of trauma was the erratic line of scars that mottled the pallid surface of the amputation long healed, a reminder of his cauterization the night they had plummeted into the very depths of Hel.

Hiccup tried to ignore the dragon's probing eyes and managed to finish applying the prosthetic to his stub without muttering something particularly insulting. He pushed himself to his feet and glanced back at his dragon only once as he limped his way over to his wicker basket , dragging it over to his furs so that he could sit down while he went through the contents of the backpack. He pulled out a roll of tanned leather and quickly unravelled the tube as he sat cross legged on his sleeping arrangements, catching the little bundle of tools that had been hidden in the middle.

"Okay bud, do you mind if I work on this for a little while and then we'll go hunting?" Hiccup spared the dragon a glance as he opened the little packet and fished out one of the thick sewing needles within, "I'd like to get a good start on this, you know, so that we can start gathering more food," Hiccup sighed and started unravelling a spool of broad thread, "It won't be long before it starts getting really cold...we've been lucky so far but we can't always count on such nice weather. It won't be long before we're neck deep in snow – like we're back in Berk all over again."

The dragon grunted in agreement and settled with pacing the perimeter as Hiccup hunkered down and continued stitching what would be his latest project; somehow he needed to free up more space for the food he would have to start collecting if he wanted to live to see the springtime and he figured what better way to do so than to outfit Toothless with a pair of saddlebags. The dragon didn't seem to be opposed to the idea so Hiccup jumped on the endeavour eagerly, if only to help him clear his mind while he worked on his needlework.

The reinforcement of the hemming was taking longer than he had anticipated when Toothless finally nudged him with his muzzle, begging him wordlessly to give up his craft to go hunting. Hiccup glanced up at the sky and noticed that the sun had moved far more quickly than he had realized and apologized to the starving dragon, stumbling to his feet in order to climb onto his back. Toothless wiggled with anticipation as his boy finally clipped his prosthetic into the saddle's robust stirrup and the dragon unceremoniously shot them both into the sky.

Toothless circled for a little while as he kept his eyes trained on the island, looking for any sign of movement. Hiccup stayed tuned for the tell-tale twitch in the dragon's muscles as he prepared to dive downwards and waited on the edge of his seat in anticipation for him to strike. He kept himself occupied with trying to make out whatever on the island Toothless was seeing within the depths of the forest that nearly coated the entirety of the average sized island, yearning for the same tremendous eyesight his dragon so luckily possessed.

_Twitch._

Hiccup twisted his ankle to one side and the two of them dove downwards towards the island with mind-numbing speed, barely hitting the ground before Toothless snatched up a deer in his paws. He cracked its neck with unnerving precision and turned for their camp, entirely impervious to the shade of green his rider's face had become. It didn't matter how many animals he had been privy to seeing get slaughtered – the noise still made him sick to his stomach every time.

Hiccup made the most of it when they landed back at camp again, squeamish but nonetheless thankful to be having a decent meal. He took his sword from its pocket of leather and hacked off the back legs of the animal, setting them off to one side. Feeling awfully queasy, Hiccup took a step back and tried to get a decent hold over himself – at least he wasn't completely covered in blood.

Yet.

He set aside his sword and snatched the dagger from his belt, holding it gingerly in his palm. He swallowed his pulsating nausea and began skinning the hide off of the saddle portion of the elk, doing so with careful, agile fingers. Hiccup tried his best to keep his eyes from venturing over to the deer's face, knowing that the look of frozen horror would force him to starve. It was that damned facial expression, the fear in its eyes... He wouldn't be having any of these problems right now if the stupid deer didn't have a head.

He finally managed to discard the all of the hide from that particular region, leaving the loins of the elk fully exposed. Carefully, Hiccup started to quarter and dislodge the meat from the spine, setting steak after steak aside on an open piece of leather. He tried to consume his mind with the monotonous task, slicing and carving and slicing and carving, but he couldn't really stop himself; sure, he had butchered and cut fresh meat before, but never with the head of the beast still attached! Hiccup swore it was staring at him, and he muttered something unintelligible beneath his breath, brushing back his unruly hair with an unspoilt sleeve.

He finished hashing the venison and pulled himself to his feet, turning away from the corpse entirely so that he was facing the fire. Toothless took his retreat as a hint and began filling the hungry void in his stomach with the elk, both worried and relieved when he had finally eaten his share. The hatchling still had yet to turn around and face him which was strange; his human wasn't usually like this and it scared him.

"Are you done?"

Toothless immediately stopped gnawing on the garish remains of what had once been the body of an elk and perked his ear plates, delighted to finally hear the small human make some sort of sound, no matter how unintelligible. Toothless tossed the rest of the carcass behind a rock and made an affirmative whine, grinning gormlessly.

Hiccup turned around and tried not to pay attention to the meaty mess his best friend had made of their camp, taking the now chilled meat by the lapels of the leather it was laying upon. He picked it up and sat upon his humble sleeping arrangements, counting the fresh pile of rations in front of him. The dried mutton he had stolen from the shelves in the Great Hall was almost gone and the rest of his provisions were disappearing faster than he had anticipated – he was always starving for some inexplicable reason and the lack of food was beginning to take its toll. He frowned unhappily at the thought and hoped that his reaction time wouldn't suffer from the lack of nourishment.

He rid the cuts of meat of the silvery linings that surrounded the muscles and discarded then into the fire. He began to prepare the venison, slicing it into small strips so that it would cure faster; considering the nomadic situation he currently found himself him, time was quickly becoming of the essence. It was never very safe to take refuge at a particular site for very long, especially now that they were reaching the outer grasps of known Viking territory. Who knew what was waiting for them out there…

He was itching to find out.

He left one of the round steaks intact and set it aside so that he could cook it later, after they had toured the islet for what had to be a salt basin somewhere. Every island they had camped on so far had seemed to be filled with them, and Odin be damned if there wasn't one here.

Hiccup hoisted himself up from his sitting position, unknowingly doing so with relative ease. He turned towards the charcoal dragon and tried his best to smile; now that the body, and that Thor forsaken face, was out of the picture, he was finding it a lot simpler to calm his nerves. The dragon caught his glance and sauntered over to him, barely crouching so that Hiccup could hop on. He gave the dragon a quick scratch on his withers and started strapping his prosthetic into the stirrup portion of the saddle.

"Ready bud?"

Toothless wiggled his hind end in anticipation, eager to get off the ground.

"Then let's fly!"

They shot off vertically and Hiccup swallowed back the whoop of elation he always couldn't help but voice every time they burst from the ground in the Night Fury's favourite fashion. They levelled soon enough and turned towards the south coast, the crest of white and navy stretching across their horizon.

The island they had landed on this time was surprisingly vast, considering the others they had taken refuge on in the past few days and Hiccup quickly realized that they were probably nearing the west coast of Grœnland. Hiccup smiled, shaking off the goose bumps as they encountered a particularly chilly updraft. They were almost _there_ – once they were past the island of Grœnland they would encounter the treacherous currents of Jörmungand and hopefully the beast would rear its ugly head right into his sword. The implausibility of the feat never crossed his mind as they neared the snow covered beaches, his mind too occupied with heroic fantasies to pay attention to their progress.

Hiccup was roused from his daydreams when Toothless suddenly reared beneath him, banking left and downwards. Instinctively, Hiccup moved the stirrup in the opposite direction and they ended up spiralling downwards in a chaotic nosedive; they barely managed to avoid a shift of limestone before Hiccup regained control of the situation, balancing them so that they were flying flat.

"What in Midgard was that?" Hiccup cried with accusation once the panic had ebbed from his bloodstream. Toothless turned his head sidelong towards the boy and Hiccup immediately shut his mouth, catching a glimpse of the dragon's tapered pupils. The young rider followed the Night Fury's line of vision into the distance.

And that's when he saw it.

"What is that?" Hiccup leant his body down against the dragon's neck instinctively, urging the Night Fury closer. Toothless, held back by his instincts but nonetheless morbidly curious, conceded to his hatchling's request. He veered lower and kept within the cover of the trees just in case they needed to turn on a hairpin and bail with a vengeance. Toothless reeled as he slackened their already cautious pace; it burned his nose with a stench he didn't think he could stomach for much longer and considering the scene that was appearing before his eyes he didn't think his hatchling would be able to either.

The pair nearly skidded to a halt mid-flight as the source of their marvel came into view; right in front of them laid the biggest whale skeleton Hiccup had ever seen, huge and half embedded in the sand. Scavenger birds were perched all over the huge mammal's broad ribcage; it looked as if the flesh of the animal had simply been sucked right off of the skeleton like one would suck out the flesh of a prawn. There was no way the whale's body could have rotted away that quickly, at least not naturally anyway. The bright ivory colour of the whale's bones indicated that the carcass had not been there very long at all.

Toothless landed some ways away and Hiccup leapt down off of his steed, his foot and prosthetic planted firmly in the sand. He stepped closer to Toothless' large head and placed his palm at the nape of his neck, looking onward in matching expressions of both wonder and horror simultaneously. Something huge must have done this, something far larger than anything out of their wildest imaginations. Hiccup and Toothless exchanged a glance before staring back at the gruesome remains of what once had been a truly hulking water creature, now reduced to nothing but little bits of tendon and bones. Hiccup swallowed thickly, his thoughts suddenly occupied with one lonesome, horrifying thought.

The Romans had one thing right – the world was one big game of chance to the gods, and Hiccup found himself thinking that he was smack dab right in the middle of it.

* * *

I have a beta now! Big thanks to Sir Nick! Hooray! So blame him if you see any spelling mistakes ahaha! Just kidding! :D

Please review and tell me what you think about this chapter. What did you think of the ending?

Love and fluff,

Brontë


	8. Verðandi and the End of All Things III

Friday morning I received one of the worst phone calls of my life. Unless you've been living under a rock, you know that Japan was hit with a huge earthquake, then a tsunami and now the threat of a nuclear disaster. My parents called me that morning to tell me the news, and that they hadn't heard any word from my brother who is currently over in Japan working all over the country on an apprenticeship program. I had been having a horrible week already and the news that my brother could have potentially lost his life really put things into perspective for me.

That Sunday, while I was over at my parents house, my brother finally called. He had been in Utsunomiya at the time working for his company and he had narrowly missed the tsunami disaster. Luckily, he and his team managed to make it down to Tokyo before the nuclear reactor emergency really turned into a fiasco. Last I heard from my brother, he was trying to book transportation to Osaka and get out of the country but so far he has had no luck. I've been a mess of nerves all week and posting this chapter is more of a distraction tactic than anything.

So please, keep an open heart to the victims of this natural disaster. With the threat of a nuclear meltdown on the horizon, I can only hope and pray for my brother.

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc 2: Verðandi and the End of All Things**_

_Chapter III

* * *

_

Astrid wasn't sure how long she had been holed up within the tiny confines of what had once been Hiccup's workshop, but if the state of the nearly melted candle in its holder was anything to go by, she guessed that it might have been a while. There had been fifteen notebooks in total lodged in the secret compartment beneath the slanted drawing desk, and though her conscious told her not to snoop around in Hiccup's belongings, she really couldn't help herself. After all, he was the man she was hoping to...like? She shook her head restlessly in a half-hearted attempt to shake away her thoughts. She would admit something to him, anything really, so long as she could chase him down and corner him long enough to tell him.

As she cracked open the well worn spine of the thirtieth notebook in the pile, she couldn't help but swallow uncomfortably. The profoundly intimate look into Hiccup's personal life hadn't exactly been a pleasant one, especially considering that most of the notebooks that had been hidden in the desk's unseen depths were kept long before he became the best thing in Berk since mutton sandwiches.

The first eight books that he had filled with his thoughts and doodles had been startlingly bleak – the lines of his drawings were uncomfortably rigid in a way that did not merely convey a lack of ability. Every once and a while his inner musings would be strewn in scribbles across the corners of the pages, their reflections unnerving and unforgivable; they spoke of infinitely darker days, of times where he was shunned and ignored despite his ever pressing need to shine. In between the blueprints of inventions here and there they told a story of rejection in the eyes of his peers, in the eyes of his father. He was a curse to the village and he knew it – but he had tried to fit in anyway, hopeful that maybe the next time things would be different.

Only once did she see a portrait of herself in those bleaker pages. She was barely recognizable amidst the harsh lines drawn in by his charcoal pencil but there she was nonetheless, scowling over her shoulder in what seemed to be the Great Hall. The depiction was shockingly accurate and it worried her; had she been glaring angrily at him? Did she really look like that when she was disgusted? She was obviously younger in the sketch if the style of her hair was any indication. She had stopped wearing her wavy tresses in double braids back when she was eleven or so and she had settled with tossing her hair into one braid ever since.

The ninth and tenth books were mostly filled with mechanical drafts and outlines of various designs, some of them more practical than others. She recognized a few of the devilish creations and considered the wreckage that had ensued because of them. She shook her head as she flipped the pages; what had he been thinking making all of those contraptions? Had he seriously thought that they would have gained him some sort of approval in the eyes of his tribe? His father?

Unfortunately Astrid already knew the answer.

The eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth books were decidedly more interesting. There she finally saw the first few sketches of the most elusive dragon of them all etched onto the pages, first as a simple anatomical outline and then later in various poses and situations. She couldn't help but let a laugh escape her lips at a particular page full of sketches, all of them of the Night Fury's silly facial expressions. One was downright horrified while another one was grinning crookedly, as if trying to imitate his goofy rider's trademark smile. She smiled despondently in response and flipped the pages until she came across another leaf with sketches of herself upon them, ones that were far more delicately drawn.

There was a set of three images splayed across the two open pages of parchment, all three of them within the same general theme. The first one had her holding her axe in one hand above her head, her body tilted sideways as if she were facing her nemesis. The second had her throwing the axe, her body tipped forward as she followed through with the movement while the airborne weapon continued across the page. The third one was of her yanking her axe out of what she quickly recognized as the tree she often chose to practice upon, her foot flat against the trunk as she tugged at the metal embedded in the wood. She let her eyes follow the way her skirt seemed to rise past her upper thighs; the attention to detail was stunning, she couldn't deny that, and the way he seemed to draw her so dexterously, despite all her ferocity, entranced her.

Perhaps the boy had been watching her training in the woods the day she had caught him longer than she had initially thought.

She watched with a morbid fascination as the sketches of his everyday life increased – there were drawings of dragons with much more docile expressions than the ones that had been illustrated in their infamous manual. A picture of his father grinning happily appeared in the pages for the very first time, drawn with a weariness that Astrid knew all too well.

It wasn't hard to figure out what night this spree of sketching had come from. Picture after picture of her appeared on the parchment, all of them depicting an emotion on her face that she remembered quite clearly on that fateful night. She paused at one of the drawings in particular, entranced by the softness of the lines, the tranquility of her features. How on earth had he managed to draw her so… Astrid tried to quell the compliments from her thoughts, pushing her anger towards the boy to the very forefront of her mind.

But…

Astrid huffed and kept staring at the piece. Of course it was weird to keep gawking at a picture of herself, especially a picture that her potential significant other had drawn of her, but she couldn't help it. By Frigg, he was good. He was fantastic! How had he managed to keep his talent a secret all this time? Did his father even know he could draw? Or if he had, had he ever even acknowledged it? She didn't want to think poorly of the chieftain, but he had been despicably cruel to his own son nonetheless.

But had she been all that different?

The thought struck a chord deep within her and she felt her heart nearly lurch to a halt. She dropped the book into her lap and recoiled as if the parchment paper had stung her fingers, staring wide eyed as the leaves skipped forward to the very last pages which were completely devoid of anything at all.

She had almost lost him.

Almost.

And now he was out there doing Odin knows what, off on some crazy wanderlust adventure. He had left because he still thought he was worthless, even after all that he had done. Astrid ground her fists into her eyes, screwing them shut in frustration. Why was this happening? What had she done?

She stuffed the final two notebooks into a pocket on the inside of her sleeveless shawl, the same one she had been wearing on the day she had watched him fly away into the sunrise. She piled all of the other books into the secret compartment beneath his desk and sealed the little hatch back up again, making sure that they were all secure inside. The last thing she needed was them falling out all over the place for everyone to see; she had invaded his privacy enough, and who knew what Gobber or Stoic would do if they ever got their hands on them.

She extinguished the virtually liquefied candle and snuck out into the evening, the sun's last rays just peaking over the horizon. She snuck through the relative cover of dusk towards her lodge and slipped past the front door, taking refuge in the barn at the back of her property instead. She inched the door open and snuck in without any trouble, closing the door as quietly as she could behind her.

"Are you still there?" she whispered, fumbling for the candle she usually kept to the left of the doorway on the windowsill. She sighed in relief as a familiar whirr carried through the darkness and Astrid quickly fished a flint from the pack on her hip in order to confirm her estimations. She struck it expertly beside the liquor soaked candlewick in her palms and stood triumphant as the candle ignited and lit the room in a splay of trembling shadows.

She saw her dragon curled in the middle of the large mass of straw that lay strewn inside the wooden barn and smiled, eagerly stepping through the dried stalks with the two final notebooks in hand. She plopped down beside the Nadder and lounged against the dragon's withers, sighing with her thankful smile still gracing her features. She looked up and was immediately swept away by the Nadder's curious gold eyes, wordlessly demanding for an explanation.

"You won't believe what I managed to find," Astrid lifted the two notebooks into the air for the dragon to examine, the Nadder's eyes narrowing for a moment as her blue nosed sniffed the leather bindings. She warbled quietly before nestling closer to her rider, obviously recognizing the scent of the individual who had suddenly become the reason why her hatchling was suffering. Astrid sighed again, this time in a way that was far from comforting, and set the first of the two books on her lap.

The first page was chock full of sketches and phrases and half formed thoughts that had spurred from the tip of his charcoal shortly after his awakening. She saw the runic symbols of her name scattered on the parchment pages more than once, coinciding with drawings of her face or of Toothless or of his father. His father, finally with a genuine smile on his face.

She turned the page and grazed over the full spread, the image taking up the entire length of the little book. It was of Toothless in his entirety with his full gear and prosthetic, staring gleefully up at something that was out of the drawing's bounds. The next page was a familiar scene; she had seen the same exact perspective when she had been sitting upon the boy's porch, idly watching his healer make a salve that had inevitably saved his life. Dragons of various species were perched upon the buildings of the lower village, roosting on rooftops or feasting by the troughs. She ran the pad of her index finger gently over the path to her cabin, its structure hidden by the buildings before it.

She continued through the first book until she reached the last ten pages or so, stopping dead at the stark contrast of illustrations in comparison to the gentle drawings at the start. She found herself staring face to face with the very thing her intuition had been stewing over since he had first mentioned it; the black, savage slit-like eyes of Jörmungand bore right through the confines of the parchment and seemed to lift from the page, its venomous fangs drawing ever nearer. She tried to quell her pounding heart but had a hard time as she fought to tear her eyes away, the realistic portrayal of the deadliest sea serpent in all of the Norse legends stirring up unwelcome feelings of fear deep inside her.

She overturned the page and flipped it again and again until she at last closed the leather casing with a thud. The rest of the images shouldn't have scared her as much as they did; sketches of cascading waterfalls, churning whirlpools and forked tongues seemed to have completely taken over his mind. She quickly tossed the book to the side and pulled the next one into her lap, hoping desperately for a change in perspective.

The fifteenth and final notebook was decidedly different than the others had been. Where the others had been chock full of portraits and sketches of scenes from everyday life, this one was almost entirely occupied with projects and lists. She found the blueprint of the terrible bow catapult thing that had nearly taken his eye out, along with various other little crafts. She sifted through lists of things written in haphazard patterns, all of which had to deal with his imminent departure, though in his descriptions he still seemed unsure of when. This changed shortly after the last appearance of her portrait; it was of a scene she could still remember quite vividly in her mind, of when he had up and left her on the beach with no explanation as to why. She knew why now of course and hated him for it, but it still didn't keep her from staring at the detail of the drawing. It appeared as if he had spent hours, days even, working on the sketch if the changes in charcoal were anything to go by.

She tried to ignore the water stain on the page, fooling herself that it was simply a fault in the parchment.

The lists started to become much more urgent and specific after that, narrowing down on the simplest of things. There were no more drawings – only runes and reminders marred the toffee coloured pages. She flipped through them as fast as her eyes would let her, her inability to see past his cryptic scrawl beginning to irritate her. She was nearing the end of the book and though she had a good idea of where he might be headed, she still had no concrete clues within her grasp as to why. She knew it had to do with his insecurities about his handicap but that couldn't be the only reason. Hiccup was a lot more complex than that, she knew from clear experience.

She had to figure it out and at last she came across the space where three pieces had clearly been ripped from the spines of the leather. She ran her fingers across the zigzagged remains and tried as hard as she could to imagine what on earth Hiccup had been thinking as he had written those three letters. Eagerness perhaps? Guilt? She was well aware of Hiccup's wanderlust but she knew that couldn't have been the reason for his departure either. There was something else, something she was missing.

And with that, she flipped to the very last page of the notebook and stared with wide eyes, mouth parted in realization. The final remnants, his last thoughts before he had left had been of a woman she didn't recognize, but if the semblances in complexion were anything to go by, she didn't have the slightest doubt about whom she was. She was smiling, her hair partially covering her brow as it was swept up into what Astrid could only imagine to be a decorative comb somewhere hidden behind her head. Her cheeks were speckled with pale freckles, accentuated by the gentle blush on her features. Every stroke had been given such fluidity, such smoothness that Astrid had no trouble in finally comprehending the real motivation for his departure once and for all.

_Valhallarama.

* * *

_

"Yeh cannae tell meh anythin' else?"

The Elder Gothi harrumphed quietly and shifted in her seat, her eyes innately shrewd in a way that Gobber wasn't sure he could take for much longer, "In time perhaps. What's important is that our bait goes out and catches the only person who can derive any resolve from this."

"Are yeh sure he'll go through with it?" Gobber's sceptical nature did not go unnoticed by the old seer and she was far too old and hoary to stop the patronizing scoff that passed through her lips.

"You'd be best to waste your thoughts on the more pressing issues at hand."

Gobber sighed and glanced over his shoulder, eyes grazing over towards the long passed out chieftain, drooling all over the ale ridden table, "I'll see what I 'ave. There's probably somethin' I can get together before then."

"You won't have long," Gothi replied, running her fingers along the smooth shaft of her walking cane balanced across her thighs.

"And how long is not long?"

"A matter of days I imagine. She's inept, reckless. But she can be smart despite her impulse to leap without looking. She'll need help if she's going to survive on her own."

"Which is where I come in, I'm guessin'."

"You're the only one who isn't running in circles like a mad dog."

The two Vikings stole another glimpse towards the fallen chief, now snoring softly beneath his helmet. Gobber tore his eyes away and sighed, not liking the situation he had suddenly been thrust into unceremoniously and without warning, "I dinnae like hidin' things from 'im."

Gothi rolled her lips together, carefully considering her words, "Of course you don't. But some things simply must be done."

"Nothin' happens on this island without 'im knowin' about it," Gobber replied morosely, knowing that no matter what he said, he wasn't getting out of this conversation unburdened.

"Which is why you're the best man for the job."

"But—"

"—Simply finish what I've asked you to do and then hide all the evidence. His mind is in shambles, he won't know the difference."

Gobber heaved another sigh and tugged at his moustache uneasily, pointedly avoiding the elder's stare, "For the record, I'm doin' this against meh will, yeh know that?"

Gothi smirked, sending shivers down the weary blacksmith's spine, "You have four days."

"But I thought yeh said yeh didnae know how many da—"

Gothi silenced him with a wave of her hand, "Trust me. Now help this old woman to her feet."

Gobber pushed himself upright without even registering what he was doing and reached out to the elder with his good arm, cupping her shoulder in his huge grasp. He supported her as she raised herself slowly to her feet, hobbling with her cane as she managed to get her footing. Once she was totally upright, the Elder Gothi beckoned him away with a flick of her wrist and bid him goodnight, shuffling slowly but surely on and out the door.

Gobber sighed and returned to his seat on the bench, the wood having already lost its warmth in the cooling air. He rested his chin in his good hand and stared blankly at the other, his pronged accessory still attached to the stub of his arm. He had forgotten what it felt like, having had lived with it for so long. It was almost fifteen years ago when he lost his arm in April only to lose his leg in May. He tried to think back to the days after his recovery, to the times when he was just learning how to walk, how to function again. Had he been that affected?

The old blacksmith shook his head; no one on this island was anything remotely like the chieftain's son.

He lifted his head and watched as the last wisps of smoke disappeared through the smoke hole and into the dead of night. He was tired and he knew that he had to rise early the next day if he wanted to get any sort of furtive start on his given objective.

* * *

"Yah!"

Hiccup lunged forwards, his left arm raised in front of him, sword in hand. He stepped back as quickly as he had come, mock parrying before ducking and lunging forwards once again. He swiped the blade upwards, hypothetically slicing a bloody gash into his imaginary enemy. He stepped back and let his sword hang limply at his side, breathing a little heavier than he would have liked.

Try as he might, Hiccup couldn't shake the relentless feeling of horror that continued to rack his bones regardless of how he tried to distract himself. He had been practicing his swordsmanship skills for nearly an hour now, attempting to replicate some of the drills he had often watched from afar as a young boy. They had studied blocks, parries, swipes, stabs...Hiccup tried to remember all of the advice the instructors had given to the trainees. He took a few steps back and sat down heavily upon his sleeping furs, the muscles in his thighs and arms burning with exertion.

He grasped the pommel of the sword in his other hand, the one that wasn't threatening to fall off of his torso, and admired it in the bright firelight. Tongues of errant flame threw the angles of the blade into sharp relief, and Hiccup couldn't help but feel a little awe inspired as he stared at his work. It was a slender edge, pretty measly by Viking standards, but he wasn't really all that concerned with their particular ideals. Judging a book by its cover had been many a Viking's downfall. This sword was strong; the way it had barely trembled when Hiccup had lobbed it into a tree in frustration not twenty minutes ago had been proof enough of that.

He wrapped the sword in its protective leather casing and placed it on his left, hoisting himself up towards the wicker tub of salt. He bent down onto his haunches and made a start to resume his half-finished job. Hiccup had found a substantial number of salt basins shortly after the discovery of the whale that had seemed to be sucked clean off its skeleton. Hiccup sighed and tried to clear his head, but no matter how much he focused on packing the venison in salt he still couldn't stop thinking. What in all of Midgard could have seemingly consumed such a humongous creature as if it had been gulped down through a straw? Hiccup shuddered forcefully; it had taken Toothless nearly fifty seconds to soar over the skeletal remains from skull to tail.

Unfortunately for Hiccup, Toothless seemed to have a pretty good idea of what could have indulged in such a gigantic body, not that the dragon could have told him.

The hatchling's mind seemed to be in a whole different realm as Toothless watched on, his green eyes trying to pick up on every nuance of the human's stiffened body. He could still taste the stench of the sea serpent on his tongue, its fetid rank still clouding his senses. Although closely related in terms of genus, the sea serpent and the dragon had long parted ways and evolved into two entirely different species. Toothless had encountered many of the wayward ocean beasts in his travels but none had ever smelt this ancient, this offensively foul.

He ventured closer to his young rider and settled down closely beside him, hoping to offer some comfort to the boy. As much as he wanted off of this island, Toothless knew that they had to stay and refuel. They had been flying nearly nonstop since their departure from the hatchling's archipelago and even the dragon had to confess that he needed the rest.

And as much as he didn't want to admit it, Toothless wasn't exactly in his prime anymore either. His wings were just as weak as they were when he was kicked out of his nest some hundreds of cycles ago, no thanks to the little creature by his flank. The only plus was that his legs and neck were far stronger than they had ever been in his entire existence, a length of time that was far longer than he cared to think about. The muscles of his wings and chest were aching from the days of overuse and if the serpent's stench wasn't still wafting around their campground, he would have long taken the chance to fallen asleep. He warbled quietly and wrapped his body up around his hatchling, closing his eyes in what he would soon hope to turn into slumber. He shifted his back paws into a more comfortable position and folded his wings into his side, eager for a good, well-earned rest.

Meanwhile, Hiccup had finished wrapping the packed meat in a sheet of leather and sat back against Toothless' resting body. He raked his fingers through his auburn hair and sighed quietly, his eyes never leaving the feeble rays of the dying sun along the horizon.

He thought of her as the two renegades sprawled there in the silence, with nothing but the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs somewhere behind them to break the absence of sound. He hoped that she would understand what he had done and not read into it too much. He hoped she would just accept his inexistence on the island like a regular Viking would.

But he knew better.

Astrid was a lot smarter than one would give her credit for, considering her ostensible obsession with all things to do with warfare and combat. But with the knowledge of war came the ability to unmask even the most enigmatic puzzles like a sleuth, always cunning and vigilant for the next unseen clue. Hiccup couldn't help but acknowledge that he had certainly left her with quite the brainteaser and he knew she wouldn't stop trying to figure out why in Midgard he had left. Unfortunately, he mused, it would be the other things she unearthed in the process that he hadn't intentionally left for her that would be his downfall.

He knew she wasn't stupid enough to go after him. Not only did he leave no clue behind as to where he was going but he had waited until her dragon had fled the island for warmer territory before packing up his bags and leaving. When he had checked the night before his departure there hadn't been a Nadder left on Berk and the barn behind the Hofferson home had been no exception. Without a dragon in her grasps, there would be absolutely no way she would even attempt to go after him, which was both reassuring and bittersweet.

Hiccup shook the thoughts from his mind. What made him even assume that she would go after him in the first place? Their relationship was over – their bonds were obviously broken. He thought he had made that clear enough on the far coast of their island and he knew that she had understood. He sighed and tore his fingers through his hair again, wishing that they were streaming through her blonde locks instead of his own. He imagined how it would feel in his hands as he pulled himself into his sleeping furs, closing his eyes as he thought of how soft her tresses would glide between his palms. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes as he imagined that she was right there beside him, her beautiful locks of golden hair splayed out like a curtain of silk against her pillow.

Her blue eyes shone in the firelight as if they were illuminated from within, their colour matching that of the ocean waves. Her lips were parted in a half formed smile as she gazed at him, her face only inches away as she leaned closer to wipe out the distance between them.

Her hand coiled around the small of his back and pushed him closer to her body, their lips suddenly intertwined. He lost his fingers in her blonde locks and sighed with pleasure, using his other hand to slowly trace a trail from her collarbone down farther and farther…

Hiccup moaned in his sleep and Toothless wearily opened one eye, his pupil strangely accusatory as he glanced down at the breathless hatchling. A new scent had begun to assault his senses, one that he was beginning to clearly recognize as he spent more and more time with the boy.

The black dragon wrinkled his nose in disgust and tried to tune out the strange panting noises the boy was making in his slumber. Unfortunately for Toothless, it seemed that human hatchlings were always in mating season.

* * *

I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Leave a review if you like, I would love to hear from you. My review count was severely depleted last chapter which really discouraged my writing.

Please keep my brother in your thoughts. Until my brother comes home, I probably won't be writing a great deal. Please excuse my small hiatus for very personal reasons. I hope you will all understand.

Brontë


	9. Verðandi and the End of All Things IV

I'm back guys! I'm so sorry I didn't manage to get back to your reviews; I was in Montreal with my family for the past week and a half now that my brother is back home and safe and I was far too sidetracked with real life to get myself onto a computer for any length of time. But I want you all to know how much I appreciated your reviews because without you guys, this story wouldn't be posted. I was afraid I was going to have to threaten you guys after the measly amount of reviews I received for chapitre 3, so thank you to the amazing people who take the time out of their busy lives to leave me a review!

On a side note, getting back to speaking english after reverting into my home language is difficult as hell. I sent a note to my lovely beta (thank you Sir Nick! You always leave the nicest comments!) and like, three words were spelt in french and I facepalmed pretty hard. That, and my accent came back full force, which means people at work stared at me like I had three heads lol.

And without further ado, chapitre 4!

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc 2: Verðandi and the End of All Things**_

_Chapter IV

* * *

_

Astrid awoke the next morning with a start, jolting almost completely upright in her bed of yellow hay. The carrying sounds of two distinct voices filled her drowsy ears, which was not an entirely unfamiliar occurrence in and around her household. Astrid's parents were the typical violent type, even if their quarrels never went past their usual tirades of verbal battering. But today's aural scene was far too strange to be a conventional marital squabble; she was still half buried in straw and the voices sounded altered and entirely wrong.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes with her fists and began to pull herself fully to her feet, brushing the errant pieces of dried grass from her shawl and her leggings. She turned towards her dragon and pressed a finger to her lips, silently hoping that the blue Nadder would understand her urgent intent. The dragon buried herself deeper into the mass of warm straw with a whirr of acknowledgement, and promptly fell back asleep.

Astrid rolled her eyes fondly and took a few wary steps towards the front of the small barn, making sure that the two stolen notebooks were safely hidden in the inner pockets of her shawl. The voices had paused for the meantime and Astrid wondered briefly if whoever had been arguing had left. She cautiously reached for one of the shutters and cracked it open as quietly as she could manage, revealing the two bodies that were not only still present but quickly approaching the barn.

"Sometimes she stays back here," she saw her mother say to the other form just outside of her plane of vision, "I'll leave you to it."

"Thank you ma'am."

Astrid froze. She knew that voice all too well.

"Hey Astrid, you in there?"

Astrid spun around, her eyes wild as she scanned the barn for some place to hide. There was no way she could wrench herself up into the rafters before he reached the barn, but she had never been one to back down from a challenge...

But before she could spur herself into action, the front door of the little barn flew open, "There you are! I've been looking for you all morning!"

Astrid sighed, shoulders resigned and slumped in defeat, and slowly turned around – there was no way she could avoid him now, "Really Snotlout? And why's that?"

Whether Snotlout was simply too conceited to hear the venom in her voice, or whether he was just too dumb to comprehend it, she couldn't tell, but when she saw that slimy grin of his spread across his face like a puddle of sheep's drool, she couldn't help but want to just slug him in the jaw.

"Well, Astrid my dear, I just so happen to have a piece of information that you might want to hear about."

Astrid wasn't so easily convinced, "If this is about the line-up for the spring raids, trust me I already know—"

"No, no," Astrid didn't know how he managed to do it, but Snotlout's insufferable grin kept growing broader, "This isn't about the raids or training or any of that boring stuff. This is way, _waaay_ more exciting. Trust me, I know things about exciting—"

"—oh for the love of—"

"—I know right?" Snotlout smirked boastfully and went to brush some imaginary dirt from his shoulder, "Well this, this is about a certain special someone of yours—"

"Hiccup."

The word sounded foreign in her mouth as she said it, the syllables rolling around like a heavy candy on her tongue. Her lips parted as she stared at him, her eyes suddenly wide with fervour.

"Oh yes," he leered, pleased that his words had finally struck their mark, "Turns out I overheard a little something or other coming from a _veeerry_ reliable source talking to the Chief and Gobber last night. And take it from me babe; _this_ is the kind of information that they won't be letting you in on anytime soon."

Astrid narrowed her eyes and ground her teeth together, pointedly ignoring his term of endearment, "What makes you so sure? They've told me everything so far."

"'Cause I heard the _veery_ reliable source tell Gobber that he had to swear not to tell you. This is confidential stuff Astrid!" Snotlout leaned in conspiratorially, "I'll tell you everything but...it'll come with a price."

"You're going to have to give me a better idea about what you're talking about Snotface," she sneered at the boy, crossing her arms defiantly across her chest. She curled her hands into tightly clenched fists, wishing longingly for her axe, "And I'm not paying you anything."

Snotlout sighed dramatically, his mock disappointment irritating her to no end, "I wasn't going to ask you for anything monetary Astrid. What kind of guy do you think I am?" the young heir chortled, seeming pleased with himself, "All I wanted was a little kiss for my troubles."

"Absolutely not!" Astrid cried forcefully, taking a step back in disgust, "I don't care what kind of information you have, I am _not_ kissing you!"

"Even if I told you where Hiccup is going?"

Astrid froze for the second time that morning, and actually had to force her brain back into submission. She steadied herself as she resumed functioning but the physical damage had already been done, her weak points exposed. Snotlout noticed this and gleefully took advantage.

"Yeah, I know where he's going. In fact, I may even know where he is right now."

The rational part of Astrid's brain told her that this fact was highly unlikely. However, the other parts were clinging like some desperate woman to the fact that _finally,_ someone knew where that intolerable boy had gone.

"Fine," she lunged over and barely brushed her lips against his cheek, reeling like she was going to throw up in the process.

"Nu uh," Snotlout shook his head and grinned lewdly, revelling in the awesomeness that came from gaining the upper hand, "It'll have to be on the lips. And for at least five seconds."

"Absolutely not!" Astrid snarled, her cheeks reddening in both embarrassment and frustration, "I will beat it out of you, you rat faced, greasy tongued, disgusting little whelp—"

"Okay then, I guess I'll just leave," he said, sighing and collapsing his shoulders in mock defeat. He started to walk away and barely made it towards the doorway before five fervent fingers grasped him around the bicep and spun him around with enough brute force to push him into the wall. His eyes flew wide open as Astrid slammed her lips against his, pressing him up against the wooden walls of her barn for exactly five seconds.

She wrenched her lips away and wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her cloak, looking absolutely disgusted with herself. Snotlout was far too busy inwardly leaping with joy to even remotely care.

"Now tell me!" she snarled, holding up her fist threateningly in the general vicinity of his face, "Tell me where he is right now before I tear your ugly little face to pieces!"

"Patience hun," Snotlout grinned lewdly, "I need a chance to enjoy my victory."

It started out almost silently, but soon Astrid's growls of rage simply couldn't be ignored any longer, "Fine, fine!" Snotlout threw up his hands in compliance, "He's going west. Like, beyond Grœnland. Way beyond there."

Astrid's face was redder than the hide of a Monstrous Nightmare, "WHERE IS HE?"

Snotlout's cool finally faltered and the young Viking figured that he should probably run out of the path of her temper sooner rather than later, "Calm down woman! He's going to the end of the world!"

Astrid's expression of fury nearly fell flat off her face, "What?"

"That's what the Elder said. He's off in search of the end of the world or something which means that he's probably heading south west."

"How did the Elder know this?"

Snotlout froze, realizing he had just revealed the name of his 'anonymous source'. The teenaged mound of muscle swallowed uncomfortably and shrugged as casually as he could, "I have no idea. She said something about how he borrowed a few of her maps and that she just...she just knew. I'm just telling you what I know Astrid! If you want to know more you should just go to her and, you know, ask her!"

Astrid was silent for a moment before her face suddenly started to darken again. Snotlout took notice of the inevitable rise of fury behind her gaze and started to back out the way he had come, throwing his arms out in front of him in self defence.

"You mean I could have just gotten this information from the Elder?"

Snotlout swallowed nervously, realizing that the way out of the dragon's barn was irrevocably shut, "Yeah but...but if it wasn't for me I...you wouldn't have known and—"

Astrid swung back and righteously punched him in the jaw so hard she swore she heard her fingers crack. But she was far too furious to acknowledge her pain and with a howl of rage she proceeded to kick him angrily between the junctions of his legs, immensely enjoying the ensuing spectacle. She hissed and bared her teeth as Snotlout cried out in agony and collapsed on his knees, clutching himself and howling like a banshee.

"You're sick," she spat as she stepped over him, making sure the edge of the door got him right in the ribcage as she wrenched it open. She sneered in revulsion once last time before stepping outside into the clear morning, pushing all thoughts of her previous encounter from her mind as she made her way out towards the laneway.

She had work to do.

* * *

Gothi had long anticipated the fervent rapping of knuckles upon her front door that frantically demanded entrance into the ancient lodge, but not the cry of pain that followed it. The Elder frowned minutely and began her slow but steady trek towards her door, rapping her cane against the shabby wooden floors. Her servant lass was too busy with the loom to be bothered with getting up and answering, but, for once, the aged woman didn't mind; she was enjoying the way all of this nonsense was playing out before her weary eyes.

When she finally pulled the door open she was greeted with a sorry sight. The young warrior maiden was standing there just as she had expected, but her hair was tousled and tossed in a manner entirely unfit for a young lady, with stalks of hay and straw sticking out this way and that. She was holding her right hand gingerly in her left but she immediately dropped it upon making eye contact with the elderly woman, attempting to take the Viking way out by ignoring her pressing pain.

"You might as well accept it Astrid," the elder Gothi said with a smirk, "Your knuckles appear to be broken."

Astrid's grimace turned into a scowl of defeat as she glared down at her discoloured hand, grunting in reluctant acknowledgement. She stomped through the doorway and stormed into her great aunt's home completely uninvited, planting herself on one of the stools near the table by the hearth. She grasped at her injured again and huffed quietly, glowering at her ancient relative with hostility as the elder limped across the foyer to join her youngest niece.

Gothi hoisted herself up onto the adjacent stool with a great degree of difficulty and stubbornly refused any help, even when Astrid almost leapt off her perch to help her. She waved the blonde youth away from her with her gnarled hands and continued to determinedly get herself on top of the stool, which she finally did manage after some time. Once she was settled the old woman knotted her hands in front of her and squinted her eye just barely, revealing to her all that she needed to see.

"And to what do I owe this visit, my grandchild?" Gothi crooned quietly, the linen loom clicking and clacking away in the din.

Astrid's face darkened as the previous scowl began to return to her face, "Why didn't you tell me where Hiccup was going?"

Gothi had long anticipated the girl's first question, and though it may have seemed pertinent to her then, the Elder knew that the answer was entirely irrelevant, "It was not my story to tell."

"You're my family!" Astrid cried out suddenly, her fiery emotions threatening to break through the deteriorating dam of her foundation, "Why would you keep it from me when you knew that he was going to leave?"

"I cannot simply disobey the gods Child. You should know this."

Astrid scoffed and crossed her arms haughtily over her chest, "Let me guess. The gods told you that you couldn't interfere?" she shook her head in disbelief, "I'm not three anymore! You can't trick me with your silly stories!"

"Believe what you will Astrid, but you should know as well as I do that the gods work in strange ways. I will not always be here to try and explain their reasonings to you."

Astrid tried to burn holes into her great aunt's wrinkled visage but the old woman only met her unfailing gaze, "Tell me where he has gone."

"I believe the eldest Jorgenson son has already enlightened you to his whereabouts."

"How do you know about that?" Astrid cried, her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Hmm?"

Astrid slammed her fist on the table, knowing all too well as to how Gothi had managed to get her information, "You have to know more than that!"

Gothi sighed quietly and attempted to adjust her position on the stool, "I'm afraid I can only follow the evidence, young one. He's gone off in search of something no one has ever endeavoured to find before. This is something far beyond my reach. The gods only know what mad desire is driving him."

Astrid let out a small breath and slumped over onto her elbows. She was tired and frustrated and the wear was beginning to wreak havoc on her thoughts. The elder watched on quietly, noticing as she divulged her first sign of weakness since she had tromped inside the hall, "It's his foot. He thinks it makes him weak."

"That's only part of the reason, I fear. He would not have just up and left if that were the case."

"Then what is it? Wanderlust? Craziness? Has he been possessed by Loki himself?"

"Calm yourself daughter. Nothing will come out of guessing as to why he left his village, his home. The only thing we can do now is hope that he will return home safely from his adventures."

Astrid was silent for a moment before responding, "I can't just wait for him to come back in one piece though! What if he never comes back? What if he's killed? No one will ever know and I'll never get a chance to say that I'm sorry or take back wha—"

"Hush. You're letting your emotions get the best of you."

"I can't help it! Hiccup is out there right now, probably getting himself killed!"

"Now you are being irrational."

"I—ugh!" Astrid's upper body completely collapsed onto the table, slamming her forehead against the solid wood, "He's not even on the island and he's still driving me crazy."

"I can't imagine it being the first time Hiccup has driven someone to insanity," Gothi muttered, a smile beginning to colour her lips.

The young Viking lifted her head so that her chin rested solidly on the table. She couldn't bear to face the elder's brutal gaze, and kept her eyes hidden beneath her unkempt golden hair, "I've never known anyone, _anyone,_ that could make me feel this way!" she sighed and crumpled against the table again, "He makes me feel so angry Auntie! And then happy! And then stupid! And then crazy!" she slammed her fist against the table, "I hate it!"

"Sometimes love changes us, makes us feel like we are not ourselves. You and he are not quite so different, as you will see."

Astrid raised her head once again, her eyes penetrating, "What?"

"The question is obvious Child. You have simply been too caught up in yourself to see it."

"Will you stop talking in riddles?"

"I'm not. If you simply stopped and listened for three seconds, perhaps you would understand."

"I do listen! I'm listening right now!"

"There is a difference between listening and hearing Astrid."

"Always with the riddles! By the gods Aunt Gothi, I am so _sick_ of—"

"Do you love him?"

The young Viking froze, her mouth agape as she tried to scramble for the something, _anything_, to rebuff the old woman's preposterous question.

She found none.

"Shut your mouth child. Gaping like a netted fish is not becoming of a young woman," Gothi smirked, threatening her without any real menace behind her words. It took a few seconds for her great aunt's demand to finally compute in her mind but Astrid did finally managed to close her yawning jaw, if only barely. Her eyes were still wide open in absolute astonishment, her mind racing in an endless circle of possibilities and memories. Over and over again she kept seeing what was, what wasn't, what very well could have been. What could she have done differently, what could she have done to show him that she cared? Would he have stayed if she had made it seem like she loved him? Did she love him?

Did she _love_ him?

"I...I don't know."

With an almost inhuman movement Gothi swung her cane up from its resting place and hurtled it straight into Astrid's shins, earning a cry of both surprise and anguish from the young Viking woman.

"Augh! What was that for?"

Gothi's grin grew wider, if that were even possible, "Does it matter?"

Astrid stared in disbelief, "Of course it matters! You just hit me!"

"Stop thinking about the pain; put it out of your mind. After all, it is already in the past."

Astrid slouched, "It still hurts."

"And sometimes the past can hurt. But you can pretend it never happened, or you can learn from it. It is up to you."

Astrid stared at her for a moment longer, trying to digest the elder's words. Then, from the corner of her eye she saw her great aunt move again and Astrid immediately drew her legs up to her chest, barely missing the woman's cane as it slammed against the legs of the stool.

"Aha!" the old woman laughed out loud, her eyes wide with pleasure, "You're learning!" Gothi brought her cane back down towards her stool and neatly slipped from its surface, hobbling around the table until she reached the other side, "Have you learnt your lesson?"

"I..." Astrid leant back slightly and swallowed as the realization began to dawn on her, slow and sweet like a summer sunrise, "Yes."

Gothi grinned victoriously, rapping her cane firmly on the uneven hardwood floor, "And your answer?"

It seemed simple now, almost childishly so. She finally understood.

"I do."

Gothi beamed, "So what are you going to do about it?"

Astrid leapt off her stool and took a step closer to her great aunt, a sudden look of determination colouring her features. She knew what she had to do. Plans of every kind began to run through her head like wildfire, consuming every other thought and desire she might have had in the past. The past may have hurt, but the present – the present was the only thing that mattered now. The present was the bridge, however precarious, towards the future and she was willing to risk the walk along the precipice to reach it. The present was the only thing tying her down to what she knew she needed to do.

She thanked her great aunt quickly and strode out of the old wooden door, blinking away the bright morning light that obstructed her gaze. She no longer felt the pain in her hand as she walked through her village, her eyes locked on the western horizon. She couldn't keep dwelling the past any longer, no matter how much easier it would have been.

The winds were changing.

She stepped out onto the highest point of the docks and stared absently beyond the waves that crashed against the shards of protruding rocks like licks of flame. It was only a matter of time before the ice set in on the island, and by then the weather would be far too treacherous to ride in. If she was going to hunt him down, she would have to leave almost immediately. She glanced over her shoulder; the furthermost tip of her lodge was the only thing she could make out from her vantage point at the bottom of the village. In three days time she might never see it again.

And if Hiccup was going to the end of the world, she knew she was going to follow him right to the end. Because wherever Hiccup was, trouble was sure to follow.

"What the Hel," Astrid grinned wildly, her skin suddenly on fire, "It's only the rest of my life."

* * *

A short, but inevitably momentous chapter. The ball is rolling now, and now that my life is in more or less proper order, updates will be a little more frequent. Thank you for having patience for me!

Please leave a review. Your kind and constructive words always spur me into a writing frenzy. I would love to hear from you :)

Love and fluff,

Brontë


	10. Verðandi and the End of All Things V

Wow! The response I received from the last chapter was astounding! I was so inspired by all of your kind feedback! After reading it all, I immediately started writing chapiter VI, which I assure you is almost finished now! If I get lots of fantastic reviews from my amazing readers, you can expect to see it posted by next thursday!

Thank you to SirNick, who edited this chapter with wild abandon and provided some fantastic feedback. He's also ill right now so send good vibes his way!

And without further ado, a milestone chapter on the adventures of Hiccup and Toothless.

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc 2: Verðandi and the End of All Things**_

_Chapter V_

* * *

The snow storms that had blown in from the north had effectively stopped both dragon and rider from taking off during the night, thus forcing them to postpone their travel plans. Unfortunately, Hiccup knew from experience that the dragon, who was currently pouting furiously to his right, didn't particularly approve of flying during the daytime. But despite the sulking dragon's resentment, they needed to get off the island at some point and Hiccup didn't want to let the present opportunity go to waste.

The brilliant pink and cyan sky of early morning filled his vision as Hiccup fished his riding gloves from his pack and pulled them onto his partially frozen fingers. He wiggled them around in some half-hopeless attempt to get the blood flowing back to his glacial appendages, and ended up just shoving them beneath his arm pits for warmth. He paced their makeshift camp a few times over, multitasking as he tried to regain some of the feeling in his legs. Even with the fire on one side and his dragon on the other, it had been an unbearably frigid night.

Whipping his hands free from their confines, Hiccup bent down and closed the clasp of the wicker basket. He hoisted it closer to the sitting dragon, who was none too pleased about their current situation, and patted the woven lid one last time in assurance. Toothless grunted and rose to his feet begrudgingly; why his hatchling was so eager to leave was beyond his comprehension. They could have easily stayed until nightfall where they would be safely hidden from unwanted eyes. The human didn't seem to understand the urgency of his request; there were things far worse than Vikings within the depths of the sea.

Hiccup slung the basket over his shoulders and took a quick look around camp to assure himself that he hadn't left anything behind. He had half-heartedly scrubbed away the signs of their encampment without really knowing why he was doing it. It wasn't like they were running from anyone; he could have been the first human ever to step foot on the little island for all he knew. But Hiccup knew better than most that it was better to be safe than sorry, especially when it came to the nuances of staying alive.

The young explorer hoisted himself onto the back of the brooding dragon and settled himself into the leather saddle. He clipped himself in and was just starting to attach his metal prosthetic when Toothless suddenly stiffened beneath him. Hiccup froze and bolted upright from his stooped position, letting his gaze wander in the distance where the dragon was staring with his chartreuse green eyes.

"Toothless?" Hiccup instinctively lowered himself closer to the dragon's broad shank, preparing for the inevitable vertical lift-off. He clung onto the handles built into the saddle as he tried to follow the Night Fury's urgent gaze; the dragon was staring intently towards the south, his eyes trained near the coast.

And that's when he started to hear it. It was faint at first, the whispers of what sounded like the hiss of water on molten steel coming faintly to his ears on the wind. But then it started to swell, the sizzling clamour unexpectedly growing in both volume and intensity. Toothless' head turned suddenly and with it moved Hiccup, his eyes finally catching a glimpse of where the noise was coming from.

"Come on Toothless," Hiccup urged, prodding the dragon with his good foot, "Let's get out of here."

The dragon moved slightly, his indication of a nod, and then launched himself up into the sky with the kind of rigidity Hiccup knew he rarely used unless the dragon felt he was in serious danger. Hiccup plastered himself as tightly as he could to the dragon's thick neck and fought to keep his eyes open against the rush of cold winter air, hoping to finally get a look at whatever was causing the unearthly noise.

Toothless twitched sharply to the left and Hiccup complied automatically, keeping the direction of the fin steady until the Night Fury finally levelled off. Hiccup opened his eyes and gagged violently before he could even get a chance to catch his breath, the smell of something acrid tainting the ocean air. The young explorer wrinkled his nose and let go of the saddle for a moment so he could wrench his woollen scarf up over the lower half of his face. He tried to breathe through his mouth but only ended up gagging as a cloud of crimson fumes began to blow their way, making his eyes tear up in revulsion. He guided Toothless up and out of the cloud, only to be assaulted with more of the acidic, noxious vapours. Toothless coughed violently beneath the choking Viking and dipped sideways, dropping them down a hundred feet or so towards the ocean. Once they were close enough to the foaming waves, they were finally able to see the true source of the noise.

On the south side of the island, the skeletal remains of the huge beached whale were…dripping? The thing was steaming like a heavy pot of water, scarlet gasses billowing in a thick smoke that rose up and away into the treacherous currents of the wind. Hiccup retched in horror as the upper ribcage completely liquefied into ebony slime and sloshed down onto the sand and into the ocean, hissing and etherizing at everything it came into contact with. Hiccup reeled and fought to keep his nausea under control as he steered the dragon away from the gaseous fumes, hoping to leave the poisonous clouds far behind.

Toothless regained his senses and rose up into the air, his previous qualms about leaving the island prematurely forgotten. His body was still tired from the immense amount of flying they had been doing but his instincts told him to get as far away as possible. The corpse stunk like the venomous eels he and his hatch mates had fought in their youths, but never had they reeked as bad as this.

Hiccup tried to shake the image of the putrefying skeleton out of his mind, but found it to be next to impossible. What in the name of Thor could have _done_ that? He had seen plenty of bodies in his lifetime but never, _never_ had he seen anything even remarkably close as to what had just transpired. It just…melted. Hard, strong bone, completely liquefied. Hiccup dry retched and pulled the scarf off of his nose as quickly as he could manage, taking in a gulp of fresh, salty air.

Hours passed as they flew overseas with nothing but the endless ocean greeting them in the distance. Hiccup could already feel the dragon beneath him begin to tire, and he began to scan the horizon anxiously, not knowing when the next small island would appear. The cold was proving to be a hindrance to the Night Fury, lethargy being an unfortunate side effect of the bitter chill that refused to let up as they made their way south west. Hiccup had hoped that maybe it would get a little warmer out here but the winds that were being tossed up by the currents of Jörmungand did nothing to ease the biting cold.

The skies were clear, and even at their altitude Hiccup had a clear view of the ocean beneath him. He peered past the dragon's wings and watched in earnest as a school of humpbacks leapt out from beneath the waves and crashed back into the ocean, their great tails waving playfully on their way down. Hiccup smiled as another one followed suite in a mischievous game of tag, splashing the whale beside it with its massive upper body. He sat back and imagined what it would be like to be a creature of the sea, free to roam the watery depths of Midgard forever. He wondered what kinds of things lurked beneath the dark sea waves; what kind of treasures did they hold?

He pictured himself as a pirate captain presiding over a hulking ship as huge as Berk itself. He would sail the seas and discover new lands and document the animals that resided there. He would discover new breeds of dragons and befriend them alongside Toothless. He would become the chief of all of the new places he located, and name his new kingdom after himself: Hiccupopia.

Hiccup smirked and shook his head; who was he kidding?

If he was going to discover a new world, he would have to name it something amazing. He would be the first to admit that he wasn't particularly good at naming things, the creature he was riding on being a prime example. With his track record, he knew he'd end up calling it something ridiculous like 'new-found-island' or something of the like.

But that wouldn't stop him from trying to think up a cool one as he passed the time.

Gradually, something far in the distance began to catch his eye. Toothless saw it too if the way he was bobbing lower and lower was any indication, and Hiccup tried to narrow his eyes in order to clear his vision. The reflection of the sun made the distant object seem like a coin of gold floating on the ocean, tossing and turning in the foaming seas.

"What is it bud? Can you see it?"

Toothless turned his head slightly and nodded in a kind of affirmative, his tongue lolling out of his mouth in anticipation. The dragon seemed to think it was a patch of land as well and made a small motion to drop in altitude, a direction in which Hiccup eagerly complied. He moved his foot in acquiescence to their joint desires, and Toothless, tired and sluggish, made a gentle descent towards the shiny remote island.

At last they had made it somewhere near what they hoped would be an island, and at last they figured out what their supposed shelter really was. The sun was setting and they were both exhausted, almost too exhausted to truly comprehend what in Midgard they were preparing to land on. Not even the cracking ice beneath them could deter them from setting foot on what they were quickly realizing to be a gigantic, floating iceberg.

With a definitive thunk, Toothless landed and effectively froze in his tracks, his lidded eyes opening suddenly as he realized he hadn't landed on solid ground. The heaving mass creaked and undulated back and forth as the tide rocked them back and forth in whatever underwater crevice it had managed to get wedged in.

Hiccup took a moment to stare around him as he realized what exactly they had just landed upon. He swallowed uncomfortably and tried, despite his weariness, to think through their options. Hiccup was no stranger to the destruction one lone iceberg could cause; he had watched a Bog Burglar's ship disappear under a turning iceberg without any warning, and never return to the surface. He knew how unpredictable the chunks of ice could be, especially in the middle of the ocean where they were so close to the turbulent currents of Jörmungand.

And yet the berg seemed to be stationary; the grating crunchy noises emanating from all around them seemed to be evidence of that, and they weren't lolling back and forth by any means. It was as if they had simply landed on a very flat islet, albeit one that was completely bare of trees and wildlife. It occurred to him then that there would be no means of making a fire that night, meaning that he was likely to freeze his fingers off if he didn't drown himself in a sea of furs.

A lethargic groan from his dragon abruptly inspired him to make his descent, and Hiccup promptly reached down to unstrap his prosthetic. Without really paying attention to what he was doing, the young explorer had managed to free all but one of the components of the stirrup when he went to jerk it from its metal confines. The worn device creaked and buckled from the force in which Hiccup had put behind the motion and one of the crucial bolts ruptured in the spring system, causing half the prosthetic's intricate parts to burst out across the flat surface of ice.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

Hiccup slumped over with a groan and slid dejectedly down the dragon's weary side, staring at the bits and pieces of the traitorous prosthetic that speckled the icy vista around them. If he had had the energy, Hiccup might have dragged his gloved fingers through his windblown hair in order to placate himself, but he was tired, hungry and defeated in every aspect he could think of. The nuts and screws continued to roll away due to the lull of the undertow, forcing the hulking iceberg to tremble, if only slightly. But the undulating shudder was just enough that each time the waves crashed upon the ice, parts of his fake leg seemed to move in the opposite direction Hiccup wanted them to roll in. He figured he had better act soon before they completely fell off into the ocean depths where they would be no use to him, but by the gods he was exhausted and sore. All of the riding was causing him to develop a pretty raw looking rash, not that he ever got the chance to properly look at it. Cold or not, it didn't matter; he ached and stung all over, and the less he had to rub his legs together the better.

With his good foot already planted on the unsteady ground, Hiccup chanced pressing the broken prosthetic in hopes that it would hold. Miraculously the thing held, although it felt as if he were walking on a wooden peg instead of a spring loaded appendage. He let go of the saddle and shuffled slightly to one side, tactfully ignoring the exasperated expression on the dragon's scaly features.

He picked up the pieces one by one but the progress was slow, having had slipped more than once on the ice with the inflexible piece of metal strapped to his calf. Half of him knew that he would have been finished already if he had just gotten down on his hands and knees and crawled the whole way, but the other half, his Viking half, wouldn't allow it.

With the last bolt finally within his grasps, Hiccup flung the basket off of his back and heaved it heavily onto the ice. He caught a glimpse of the Night Fury over his shoulder and beckoned him over with a tactfully seasoned glare, the exertion of the day finally catching up with the boy. Struggling, the dragon hobbled over to his hatchling and deposited his thick body down beside him, crooning quietly before closing his eyes wearily and falling asleep.

Though the dragon barely brought any warmth, the presence at his side was undoubtedly comforting. Hiccup sighed and fished the set of drivers and tools from inside his basket, grasping them within his covered fingers. He frowned as he placed the little package onto his lap alongside of the pile of parts and resigned himself to taking off his gloves so that he could work.

Some half hour later Hiccup gazed upwards and saw that his daylight was fleeting. The last tongues of pink and orange light were just beginning to disappear and with it went the ability to finish repairing his fake leg. He pressed his tongue between his lips and began to screw twice as fast, his fingers absolutely frigid as they clasped the pinchers in one hand and the screwdriver in the other. He took a moment to breathe warm air onto his hands and leant down even further over the prosthetic in his lap, determined to finish.

He could barely see in front of him when the fake appendage was finally finished, and he gladly strapped it onto his leg before packing up the rest of his little tools. He pulled out all of the spare furs he could feel with his hands and wrapped them around his body before lounging back on Toothless, shivering all the while. The Night Fury hadn't budged an inch since he had fallen asleep only a few hours before, and Hiccup hoped he was simple catching up on his much needed sleep. After all, the last thing he needed was Toothless to have fallen into hibernation.

Hiccup sighed and buried himself as deeply as he could into the crook of the dragon's shoulder. He wondered if dragons hibernated at all, or if they simply migrated to a warmer area during the winter. There had to be some exception to the exodus, and he wondered vaguely if there were some dragons that never had to migrate at all. Were there dragons that lived in the desert places of the known world? Hiccup closed his eyes and snuggled into the furs around his body, wishing he could rub his legs together to generate some kind of friction and warmth. Gods, he hated saddles. He hated saddle rash. He hated everything about saddles. Hiccup frowned and relished in his brooding temper, wishing he had thought to bring some sort of salve to soothe the sting.

He felt sleep slowly take hold of the recesses of his mind and he dolefully fell victim to it, allowing the lethargy to take over his senses. He was tired and he desperately needed the rest.

After all, the whole world was waiting.

* * *

Hiccup had long woken up before the sun had begun its ascent, its brilliant rays of red and orange barely visible along the canvas of Northern sky. He held his breath and watched in silence, clutching his knees to his chest on the edge of the iceberg as he waited for the sun to rise. He stared absently, his mind utterly blank, as the ocean waves crashed against the steep slopes of the errant iceberg, irrevocably stuck in the underwater crags. He let out a soft breath, the mist quickly disappearing in a salty gust of wind that dissolved like a phantom into the waiflike clouds above.

Toothless was sitting a few feet behind him, green eyes vigilant as they scanned the brightening horizon. Nothing but the endless straights of water crossed his vision, no humans, no species of his own kind flying through the air. The Night Fury inwardly scolded himself at the thought; of course there weren't any of his kind flying though the cold northern air. Most of his brethren were probably basking in the warm sun in the southern regions, the brackish air of the tepid seas dulling their senses.

Toothless frowned and shifted in his position, uncomfortable as a series of memories from a distant past assaulted his thoughts. It had been a time before Hiccup, before humans, before _her_. A time before enslavement had completely taken over his system, his youthful way of life. To be the only one of his kind, depleted as they were, drawn in by her silky siren song; he never had a chance against her. He let his gaze fall silently over the boy, his reddish hair shining iridescently in the growing sunlight; if it hadn't been for him, he would have never been freed.

The situation he had found himself in still hadn't quite worn off its laughably ironic sheen. Centuries of fighting, only to end by the most unlikely of friendships to ever spring and blossom. Beast and man; elder and hatchling. Toothless scoffed at himself; he certainly wasn't an elder yet but he was definitely beginning to feel like one, what with the ache in his wings and side driving him to near insanity. Perhaps he was past his prime – it injured his already humbled pride to admit it. He turned his head to the left, craning his neck in an attempt to loosen the tightly wound muscles within. It cracked with a morbidly satisfying sound, and he let his wings stretch out behind him; aging or not, he still had one Hel of a life still left to lead.

He had witnessed many sunrises in his existence and this one didn't disappoint him in its beauty. A red sky at dawn usually meant bad weather, but he wasn't willing to dwell on what the day would bring. He had spent far too long thinking only about the future, what his life would bring. Would he ever see his brethren again? Would he ever return to his nesting grounds, find his mate again? He'd been enslaved for centuries and the thought of his home made him feel sick and itchy. He wished he could shed his outer scales and feel like a hatchling again – he wished he could simply take off in the direction of his homeland and never stop until he found them.

But things had become remarkably more complicated than that.

He was part of a new brood now, bonded with a human hatchling of pathetically measly proportions. But he was his young now, the hatchling he had never stopped to have before his years of servitude. He had to take care of him, help show him the world his human had never gotten the opportunity to know. He remembered leaving the nest for the first time with his sire, soaring around the world, studying, seeing, _feeling_. His hatchling's sire sought to do nothing but shelter him; he had to learn somehow! He had to see the world, learn from it, fly! Toothless schooled his expression, his eyes staring determinedly at his hatchling's silhouette against the horizon. Perhaps their species are different, yes, but this was not the first time a dragon had brought a member of another kingdom into their brethren. Orphaned ones, the weak or sickly; their race was charitable and cared deeply for their young.

His own relationship with his adoptive hatchling was no exception. The dragon's molten core warmed him from the inside as he continued to watch his Hiccup, rivalled only by the brilliance of the sunrise.

* * *

The young explorer shivered and drew his knees in closer to his chest. A storm was coming, if the fishermen's rhyme was of any semblance of truth:

'_Red sky in morning, sailors take warning.'_

He wasn't looking forward to flying in a storm, especially one that would no doubt involve sub-freezing temperatures and icy hail the size of his knucklebones. He has been spoilt in the summertime, having flown on top of Toothless during the warm months on the dismal island of Berk. He didn't want to break his petulant languish by thinking something positive, but he couldn't help but acknowledge that it had been a pretty mind winter so far.

Hiccup wasn't exactly sure of the date anymore, but he assumed that it must have been somewhere near the winter solstice. After all, the days had gotten significantly shorter; it felt like they only received a few hours of sunlight each day. Hiccup rocked back slightly and resisted the urge to brace his hands behind him. Gods, this iceberg was so cold!

The sun had finally risen above the line of the horizon and the seas were beginning to get choppy. They crashed against the sides of the berg with a renewed fervour, their spray reaching so high that Hiccup could feel it speckle on his cheeks. Clouds were rolling in from the east, churning and darkening all the while as they rose past the skyline and continued ominously towards them. Hiccup licked his parched lips and frowned as he felt his tongue become coated in salt, bitter and tangy and entirely unwelcome. It only reminded him of the onslaught of rain and wind yet to come, driving into his back without even an inkling of mercy and—

'_dragrsssssssssssssssssss…'_

Hiccup became rigid as the atmosphere around him crackled with the echo of a sound he didn't seem to hear. He kept his eyes trained on the horizon and instinctively leaned away from the source of the noise, bracing himself stiffly with his palms. He shuffled backwards towards the dragon, his prosthetic leg scraping hoarsely against the ice as he dragged himself like a crab away from the precipice of the berg. He pushed himself onto his feet once he was far enough from the edge and made the rest of his journey on foot, eyes still locked on the ominous, darkening skies.

Hiccup reached out blindly with his hand, resting it against his companion's solid withers. He glanced sidelong at the dragon; the Night Fury's gait was impossibly tense and his pupils were narrowed into slits. Toothless had heard it too, the sound that seemed to reverberate in his bones rather that enter into his ears. Hiccup swallowed the lump in his throat uneasily and stepped closer to his steed, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"What the Hel was that?"

And as his words began to float away on the wind, the earth as they knew it began to tremble. It was subtle at first, just enough to startle them as Hiccup scampered over to retrieve his packed wicker backpack. The quaking worsened as he hoisted it up and flung the straps over his shoulders, the force of it knocking him backwards as the tremors grew more and more violent. Toothless skittered sideways as he scrabbled for some sort of grip, his rotund claws useless on the flat plane of ice. He scrambled to control himself as the vibrations forced him nearer to the boy, his lips pulled back in a helpless cry as he closed the gap between the two. Hiccup, finally unfreezing himself in the wake of the uncontrolled dragon hurtling towards him, steadied himself by stepping backwards in a crouch. He slid out of the way at the last moment and grabbed onto the saddle strap as the Night Fury passed, using the momentum garnered by the trembling iceberg to haul himself up and over the dragon's back. He landed just left of the saddle, and had to fight to pull himself into position, clipping his harness in first before bending down to fasten the stirrup.

'_...'_

Toothless' nostrils flared and he reared up onto his hind legs in fright, his heart palpitating dangerously fast. Panic coursed through his veins as the stench of something so old, so foul, so disgustingly wretched flooded his senses like the fiercest torrents of the Northern seas. He heard his hatchling cry out and he fought to gain some sort of footing, begging wordlessly for Hiccup to fasten his prosthetic faster.

The boy's fingers weren't making any progress, what with the bone shaking tremors that sought to throw him clear from the dragon's scaly back. He managed to tighten three out of the four components before something caught his eyes in the distance.

Something that was moving very fast.

He folded himself in two with immeasurable urgency, fastening the last of the components on his fake leg. A colossal tidal wave was drawing nearer, closing in with unearthly speeds he had never seen before. He hollered out in alarm and jabbed Toothless in the ribs with his good foot, shaking the dragon out of his immobile reverie. Hiccup twisted his knee and the tailfin locked into place; all he needed was the wings to fly them.

"TOOTHLESS!" he screamed above the clamour that sought to take over and deafen them. The dragon twitched and he spread his wings faster than he had ever done before, launching himself into the air and shrieking like a banshee straight out of Helheim as the wave grew higher and higher.

"GO GO GO!" Hiccup howled at the top of his lungs, his body plastered to the Night Fury's agile neck. He moved with the dragon as each wingbeat brought them to new altitudes, adding to the momentum of their precarious climb. He could practically feel the droplets of sea water spray against their face as the wave sought to envelop them both, its apex drawing nearer and nearer. Hiccup couldn't stifle the cry of horror that escaped his lips as his doom drew nigh, his last breath rushing past his lips...

They burst into a layer of clouds and emerged above them, narrowly escaping the massive tidal wave that had threatened to extinguish their entire existence. Hiccup had barely taken a breath before Toothless banked sideways, flying with renewed vigour away from the source of the wave as it came crashing down beneath them. Hiccup pressed himself to his steed again and tried to calm his quailing heart, which was hammering inside his chest at irregular intervals. He was almost afraid to close his eyes, terrified that something else, something far worse was going to emerge from the clouds below them and seek to finish the job.

And that's when it started; it began quietly at first, a vibration in his bones Hiccup simply acquainted to air turbulence. But it continued to nurse itself into being, growing into a calamity so loud Hiccup swore the gods in Asgard could have heard it. The rasping laugh of something that neither dragon nor human could ignore rose from the depths of the ocean and spread through their bones, jarring them, grating them like wood shavings on a grater. Hiccup fought to catch his breath as the vibrations pushed his essence from his lungs, strangling him, turning his body against itself. Toothless was suffering the same excruciating fate as he began to falter, bobbing as his body tried to rob him of his breath. It was only when the hoarse laughing began to ebb into silence that the choking hold began to fade as well, leaving them panting and deprived of the essence they needed to live.

Toothless' exhaustion was evident, but Hiccup urged him to continue on despite the knowing fatigue that threatened to overtake him. Whatever had caused that giant wave was still down there, probably waiting.

Hiccup shivered, a combination of both frigidness, and fear.

The hunter had just become the hunted.

And for the first time since he had left his village, Hiccup wished he had never gone.

* * *

Finally! I've waited ten whole chapiters to delve into Toothless' psyche. How do you feel about having Toothless as an older, father-like figure? Does it skew your perspective of him, having often read him as a more youthful, brother of Hiccup? Do you like it? Hate it? Let me know!

Also, I've posted a poll in my profile regarding a genre that I've dabbled in before in my other fandom, but not yet here. It has to do with "M rated" fiction within HTTYD and whether you like it, hate it, and if you would read a one shot in the genre if I ever chose to write one. This is purely a hypothetical question, so please answer honestly!

Lastly, please review! When I get an onslought of reviews (like last week) I go into a keyboard frenzy. I just write and write and write and write and write... :D So review!

Love and fluff,

Brontë


	11. Verðandi and the End of All Things VI

I've got a whole shopping list of author's notes today!

1) Thank you to all of the amazing people that reviewed! I was a little sad that the response was below average though, so I thought that I would move my update day and see if that changed the amount of people who read and reviewed! It's worth a shot!

2) Thank you to my beta, who is always there to talk some sense into me. Thanks Sir Nick!

3) I received a lovely little message from a troll the other day who told me I can't spell because I spell Canadian and not American, which, according to this troll, is the only way people should spell. If you'd like to read how I replied to this obviously uncultured troll, you can check out my deviantArt page. The link is in my profile.

4) Speaking of my profile, if you haven't already answered my poll on my profile page, please do!

And now, for the next instalment of...

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc 2: Verðandi and the End of All Things**_

_Chapter VI_

* * *

"YAH!"

The tree was given no warning as the axe came hurtling serendipitously towards it, the worn and tarnished metal lobbing into its bark with a brute force it hadn't been expecting. Clear sap oozed from its wound as its attacker stomped towards it, completely oblivious to anything but the sting in her arm.

Astrid shoved her foot up against the tree and jerked her axe from the toughened trunk, wrenching it roughly with her entire body. She grunted as the bark held firmly onto the edge and the young warrior eventually had to undulate up and down in order to loosen it from the wood. It finally came free, and she stared at the blade in annoyance as she stumbled backwards. She frowned as she noticed that the state of the weapon had progressively gotten worse and worse with each passing glance.

She paced to the left and sat down on top of the nearest rock, glaring at the chipped axe in her palms. The weapon was as old as her great grandmother, having been forged specifically for her as a coming of age present. From then on it had been handed down to either the eldest or most promising female warrior in the Hofferson line, thus falling into Astrid's possession.

The blade, although discoloured with flecks of rust, shone clearly in the dying autumn light. A small dusting of snow littered the ground as she placed the war trodden axe upon her lap, sighing deeply as she leant back against the rock. She let the last of the autumn sunlight warm her skin as she closed her eyes, reflecting on the past few days with suppressed emotions. The past was in the past; all that mattered now was the present.

It had been three days since her inherent self discovery, and she had spent them wisely. She was nearly packed, the essentials of a journey full of unexpected twists and turns already folded neatly with extra room to spare. She had gathered the additional supplies she needed under the pretext of training as much as she was able before the winter truly set in. She wasn't sure if her mother really believed her stories, but what she thought didn't really matter. No one was stopping her, and frankly, nothing _could_ stop her. There was nothing anyone could do or say that would get her to change her mind; she was going to hunt down that boy and make sure he never left her sight again.

She pushed herself to her feet and turned on her heel, resting her axe on her shoulder with another placated sigh. She would need to get her axe sharpened one last time before she left, maybe see if she could get it rebalanced as well. The wood was worn and old and in desperate need of replacement, but she didn't have time for petty fixes. She was on a deadline.

She hunkered down against the chilly wind that met her as she left the sunlight, and continued her trek through the forest back home. She would make the best of the dying sunlight and coordinate the last of the arrangements before sleeping in her childhood bed one last time. Then, she would rise before dawn and sneak out of her house unnoticed, leaping onto her dragon and riding into the west with their backs to the sun.

She quickened her pace and went through the objects of her backpack in her mind, assessing and reassessing as to whether she had forgotten anything. She had gathered enough food from the stores in her pantry to last her at least a week; she hadn't wanted to be greedy, especially at the brink of what her great aunt had been predicted to be a rough winter. She could function physically off of very little if need be, and she was hopeful that there would be plenty of chances to hunt during her trek across the oceans. Though they may have been the settlement the farthest west from the mainland, there were myriads upon myriads of small islands speckled amid the seas until the coast of Grœnland. There would be ample opportunities to seek out game and heighten her stores of provisions; that is, until she left the known Viking territory and travelled beyond.

The thought of going further than any of her kin had gone before troubled her more than it should have. She pulled her shawl in closer to her body and dipped her head to preserve her fleeting warmth, wondering all the while as to whether she would even make it. She scorned herself for her insecurities, but in her heart she couldn't deny that the thought of delving farther than any of her forefathers had dared to go worried her. No one had ever ventured farther than the currents of Jörmungand and lived to tell the tale. What lay beyond their churning rapids and whirlpools? A waterfall that led to the endless depths of Hel? A continuous span of never ending ocean? Asgard itself?

Astrid leapt over a fallen log, and quickened her pace through the forest, her darkened thoughts spurring her in her need to flee the murky hollows of the forest. The unknown suddenly brought with it a sense of anxiety she had been feeling on and off since a particular Night Fury and his insufferably foolish rider had scooped her up in the forest all those many months ago. She hated the feeling as it attacked her from the inside out, making her insides feel as if they were revolting against her. She bit her lip and continued her seemingly endless trek through the forest, hoping to see the light of day through the trees sooner rather than later.

Within minutes, the young warrior had made her way out of the forest, vying against the urge to check on her dragon one last time. She was being irrational and she scolded herself inwardly for it, shaking the stupidity out of her thoughts. She hated being this unreasonable and this foolish in the face of the relative unknown. She was not a coward. She was not a coward!

Then why was she starting to feel like one?

Astrid grumbled and refused the urge to lob her axe into another defenceless tree. Gods, she was getting more and more annoyed at herself. She was starting to feel ridiculous as she stomped down towards the village; her thoughts were swarming with half formed insecurities. She needed to leave Berk before her stupid mind stopped her all together, and she would never forgive herself for that.

She was just venturing into the outskirts of the village when she caught Fishlegs scurrying towards her out of the corner of her eye. She turned to him and he waved frantically, his eyes suddenly alight with some strange realization. She waved back at him warily before watching as he revolved around in the opposite direction, his wide body bobbing back and forth as fast as his stout legs would take him.

Astrid shrugged, grateful for the distraction, and continued on into the lower levels of the village. With a bit of luck, Gobber would be somewhere in the vicinity of the force, and she could hopefully get her mottled weapon sharpened professionally one last time before leaving the island indefinitely. Her hand absently travelled down towards the pouch on her hip, and felt for the whetstone that lied within, holding its comfortable weight in her palm. Besides her axe, it was one of the most important things she could ever hope to have on her during a journey that would, no doubt, take a very _long_ time.

She opened her ears to her surroundings, and was pleased to hear the telltale moaning and groaning coming from the general direction of the forge. Gobber was no doubt in there, probably smashing something with brutishly excessive force, and Astrid hoped that he would have the time to give her axe a bit of attention. She hoisted the weapon off of her shoulder and held the handle in front of her body, grazing her eyes over both arcs of the blade. One was far more damaged than the other, and she had trained herself to favour the less destroyed side when in combat, although it didn't always work when in the heat of battle. She found herself more often than not forgetting about it when she had been in the midst of dragon training, hence the poor axe shots when she had been fighting that Gronkle.

She pressed her lips together as the roof of the forge came into view, watching as black smoke spouted from its charred chimney. It dispersed into the clear skies and floated away on the bitterly cold wind that had begun to tousle her hair more and more violently. She tossed her blonde fringe out of her eyes and reminded herself of a particular chore she had to complete before she went to bed that evening, the frown never leaving her features.

She made her way towards the window counter of the forge and peered inside just in time to see Gobber lob something sharp in her general direction, swearing up and down as if his pants were on fire. He threw his hands up into the air and bellowed something unintelligible before glaring over at Astrid with an expression of both incredulity and exasperation colouring his features.

"Git out o' here, will yeh! Yer in meh light!"

Astrid swallowed and took a small sidestep to the left, keeping her eyes on the decidedly unsound blacksmith currently waving a hammer around like a fly swatter, "Sorry."

"Don beh sorry! Beh right! Now, git out! I dinnae 'ave any time to beh doin' anythin' but what I'm doin'!"

"Can you spare five minutes and sharpen my axe? It's starting to get really dull and—"

Before she had finished speaking, Gobber closed the gap between the two of them and leant over threateningly, his eyes as wide as saucers.

"CAN YEH NOT 'EAR MEH? I'M WORKIN'!"

Between the flying spittle and the terrifying expression of madness, Astrid stepped back and nodded, only once, before tactfully taking off in the opposite direction. She flung her axe over her shoulder and kept up her sprint, the eyes of her mentor still burning holes in the back of her skull. She stopped her flight only when the forge was out of her plane of vision, and all odds of imminent death at the hands of a remarkably volatile blacksmith were reduced to nothing.

So much for getting her axe sharpened.

She stood still until her breathing retuned back to normal, and then retreated back in the direction of her lodge. There was nothing else she needed doing save the sharpening, and she figured that she might as well spend the next few hours before nightfall resting up for the journey the next day. Her mother was probably cooking some sort of stew that she looked forward to stuffing her face with, knowing that this would be her last chance in a long time to have someone do the dirty work for her. Astrid wasn't known for her cooking skills; her entire family could attest to that.

She turned down an alleyway and let her eyes graze her surroundings, soaking them in. It wouldn't be long until the sights and sounds of Berk were but distant memories in the back of her mind, lost within the swathing folds of the past. She swallowed roughly and tried to shake the emotions that were beginning to claw at her core once more, threatening to drive her senseless. Memories of the past began to swarm her, moments of both joy and suffering shrouding her senses. Recollections of her first hunting trip with her father, her first successful loaf of bread with her mother, the hand-me-down axe she had received on her tenth birthday. Time was slipping through her fingers faster than she could rightly hope for, and the radical notion of the concept was beginning to seep into her bones. She would be gone from her home for a long time, maybe forever. She could very well die on this suicide mission to hunt down the boy that plagued her dreams every time she closed her eyes.

But she wouldn't.

She couldn't give up, not really. She could be on her last legs and she would still continue her journey. There was nothing that could stop Astrid Hofferson, save her own traitorous thoughts.

The cowardly voices in her head began to torment her again, and Astrid fought to shove it back down into the recesses of her mind once more, losing herself within the creases of her thoughts. She became ignorant to the world around her, even as a lumbering giant came galloping after her from behind, bellowing her name like a war cry. She barely noticed until he had run out in front of her and effectively blocked her passage through the rest of the alleyway, forcing her to stop and glare up at the obstructing hulk.

"Fishlegs? What—"

"Shhhh!" he whispered loudly, contradicting the affect. He motioned urgently with his arms like a flailing goose, beckoning her to follow him, "Come with me. This way."

"But—"

"Come on!" Fishlegs said, turning around and leading the way out of the alley. Her curiosity piqued, she had no choice but to follow him back into the dying sunlight and in the direction of the Ingerman lodge.

* * *

The moon had long taken residence in the dominion of the sun, its pockmarked features making a rare appearance in a sky that was devoid of the clouds that floated along the horizon. Outside, the stars shone with a brilliance that spoke of a millennia, their cores burning with the fires of souls long lost to battle or strife.

Astrid took one last glance towards the western horizon before shutting the doors to her home and peeling off her boots, chucking them haphazardly to one side. She tiptoed up the stairs, her footsteps muffled by her socked feet, and dumped her side sack off onto her bed. She carefully spilled its contents onto the fur bedspread and cautiously picked up the largest of the packages, cradling it in her palms. She sat back down onto animal pelt and removed the object from its linen wrappings, revealing the gift that lay hidden underneath.

In a flurry of fanatical enthusiasm and inventor's bliss, Fishlegs had urged her into the lower levels of his home with enough force to toss her sideways, both physically and figuratively. She was completely oblivious to his eager babbling, jabbering and prattling about this thing and that without providing any semblance as to what on earth he was talking about. She stopped listening once he had led her into a small workroom, brightly lit by a slotted window in the roof.

The decor of the little workshop was similar to Hiccup's in that it was covered with papers and pictures pinned chaotically to the walls. Books reclined in towering piles all over the place in the little room, having no other home if the state of his overstuffed bookcase was anything to go by. Astrid watched from the corner of her eye as Fishlegs threw his hands into the air and exclaimed something completely unintelligible before burrowing himself in a wooden chest stocked to the brim with trinkets and contraptions. His hulking body was almost half buried in gadgets before he shouted something that sounded like a eureka and came up for air, a small wooden box held gingerly in his meaty hands.

"I've found it!" he cried, spinning around gleefully and placing the box onto his desk. He grinned and waved Astrid closer to him, eyes wide with abundant enthusiasm. He lifted the lid of the box up with the utmost care, leaning in as closely as he dared to oversee his progress. Once the top of the package was clear, he threw it to the side and peered into the box, his button nose just peeking over the edge. He reached down into the pine container and lifted out a small package wrapped in linen and held it in his palms like a crown, holding it out towards Astrid.

"A few months ago I was riding Horrorcow and...and I got this idea! And so I came down and made these, but...they didn't fit! So then I put them away...and then I heard you were leaving! And then I thought—"

"Wait, who told you I was leaving?" Astrid interrupted, her bemused expression turning into a frown.

"I...I...I don't know. It's just what some people are saying, that you're leaving and you're going to find Hiccup and you're going bring him back and beat him up when you find him, that is if you find him, which is going to be like, a +25 difficulty once the weather starts getting bad, since the elder said there were going to be reaaally brutal storm systems and –"

"—Finding Hiccup won't be a problem," Astrid said forcefully, pushing every ounce of interjection she could manage into her voice. She was well aware of the risks her journey would pose.

"But—"

"What were you going to show me?"

Fishlegs knew a dismissal when he saw one, "I...right. Right, um," he swallowed to gain his composure, his enthusiasm already faded. He looked nervous as he brought the package closer to his chest, holding it as if he were afraid that she might break whatever lied within, "Well I made these and I...I figured you might as well have them, you know, only if you want to."

He bashfully handed her the package and Astrid took it from his hands, her eyebrows raised in scepticism. She placed the parcel on the surface of the desk and unwrapped what felt like something quite delicate, peeling the layers of linen off one by one.

When the object was finally revealed Astrid took a moment to stare, completely entranced by the little contrivance that lay out before her. It was a pair of what appeared to be glasses. The lenses were colourless and transparent and the image was almost completely unmarred as she brought them up to her eyes. Surrounding the two disks of glass was a belt of treated leather and the dark material that touched her skin was as smooth as woven wool. Attaching the lenses together were more strips of leather that fastened the pair of goggles snugly in the front and loosely in the back. There was even a tightening mechanism with a small buckle at the back where she could, hypothetically, constrict the goggles so they would fit better around her eyes.

"You made these?" she said quietly, her voice semi filled with awe. Fishlegs shuffled around his workshop timidly, his hands clasped in front of him, before replying.

"Well, I had some help," Fishlegs swallowed, his eyes never meeting her gaze, "Hiccup helped with the back bit. He found a better way than just tying the leather together."

Astrid bit back the swell of something horrifically familiar in her chest upon hearing Hiccup's name and set the glasses back down, peeling her stare away from the craftsmanship of the goggles, "Why are you offering these to me?"

Fishlegs shrugged, peering over at the glasses, "It's going to be cold and windy out there, and the gods only know that you'll need to be able to see, especially in a snowstorm. I mean, what if you run into danger, or an iceberg, or a giant whale! Or maybe a fleet of pirates! Or—"

"—Thanks Fish," she interrupted him fondly, folding the goggles back in their linens, "I...I love them."

"You're welcome!" he chirped, grinning all over again, "And when you get back, you have to tell me everything about them; how they fit, how they performed in sub zero temperatures, in snow, rain, sleet..."

Astrid smiled and shook her head. Back in her bedroom, the young warrior picked up the goggles from her bed and brought them up to her face, pressing the leather encased lenses up to her eyes. Once they were in place, she followed the leather strap around to the back of her head and pulled the strip tightly, feeling for the strange metal buckle that promised to keep them fastened to her skull. She found the nook and closed the little clasp, allowing her hands to fall to her sides. She could see clearly out of both lenses, although the right one was slightly botched in the right hand upper corner. She shrugged it off and padded her way over to her parent's wooden chest, making sure that her progress was as silent as possible. She opened the trunk with the utmost care and silently reached her hand inside, fumbling around for the small glass that had been passed down through her mother's side of the family for generations. It was the only mirror their family owned, as they were outrageously expensive and merchants didn't often come to visit the westward island of Berk very often.

She finally felt the cool metal in her grasp and pulled it out carefully, pushing herself to her feet. She peered into the polished glass and caught a glimpse of her reflection staring back, determined and unwavering.

She was ready.

* * *

She was up long before the first rays of the sun had begun their ascent above the horizon. She rose out of bed with soundless ease and slid her leather headband onto her brow, brimming with static determination. She sidestepped around her snoring siblings and, having already gotten dressed before she had gone to bed, left the room without any further supplies.

She kicked the errant strands of fallen blonde hair down the crack in the floor just above the stairs, revelling in the freedom of being able to see through both eyes. Her fringe had grown out of hand, and she figured it was now or never for her to chance getting rid of it. Her bangs now rested just above the arch of her eyebrows, and she peered into her mother's glass one last time before plonking the mirror on the mantle with a definitive clatter.

She looked _good_.

Breathing in deeply, Astrid went to the only closet at the end of the hall and unearthed her basket from beneath a pile of linens and furs. Her mother rarely opened the door to gather anything at all from the small, crowded cubby; only her younger siblings went into the diminutive room, usually during a game of hide and seek, and they would have never put two and two together anyway. She heaved her basket up over her shoulder and padded gently down the stairs, unwilling to wake any of her family in hopes that she could leave unnoticed. She wanted her departure to be as painless as possible; playing on her heartstrings would only make things worse.

She snatched a bound piece of parchment from the inside of her shawl and left it unceremoniously on the kitchen table. No doubt one of her siblings would find it first thing in the morning, and run screaming upstairs to mama and papa. Astrid sighed and shivered, the fires of the hearth almost completely extinguished. She didn't want to drag anyone else into this silly adventure, but she didn't want to force her parents to suffer either. She was the ticket to a better life for her family. She was well aware of this, and it pained her to leave them hanging. She was the eldest daughter, the best female warrior Berk had seen in a generation, and now...now she was leaving. She was practically already gone.

She shivered again and dropped her basket onto the floor as quietly as she could, her eyes searching vigilantly for her winter coat. It wasn't on the shelf where she had placed it the night before, and Astrid wondered vaguely if her mother had put it back into the pile in the closet. She padded over to the ground floor cubby and gently pried it open, but was unable to see anything in the dark. She sighed and slowly turned around in order to retrieve a candle when something, almost imperceptibly, moved in the darkness.

Astrid crouched immediately, and snatched at the dagger strapped to her thigh, "Whose there?"

The silhouette moved again, but it was the buttery swoosh of a cotton skirt that ultimately disclosed her identity, "Looking for this?"

Astrid's mother stepped out of the shadows, holding the warrior girl's woollen coat in her hands.

"Missing something?"

Astrid immediately froze in her stance, her thoughts completely petrified, "I..."

"Did you really think you could leave without telling me?"

Astrid's heavy silence spoke volumes.

"You may have been able to fool your father, but I am not as gullible as him. I knew the moment things started disappearing off the pantry shelves that you were leaving, like it or not."

The young warrior swallowed uncomfortably and glanced away, her guilt clearly marring her features.

"Astrid," Mrs. Hofferson's voice lost its accusatory tone as she breathed in unsteadily, slipping onto one of the stools that surrounded the dining table, "Are you sure you're ready to leave? You can wait another day, or—"

"No."

Mother and daughter locked eyes in the wavering darkness, illuminated only by the glowing coals in the hearth. The stalemate grew longer and longer, and for a moment Astrid thought it would never end.

"Gobber brought you something," Astrid's mother finally said, conceding to her daughter's iron stare, "I told him to leave it at the barn."

"I..." Astrid trailed off, staring awkwardly at a dimple in the hard wood floor, "What is it?"

"I have no idea."

The silence trailed on.

"Look mother, it's not that I—"

Mrs. Hofferson brought her arms up in order to silence her daughter, "Hush. I know you're not abandoning us. And I'm not trying to stop you from doing what you feel is right," the older woman exhaled noisily and dropped her hands into her lap in defeat, "I just wish you would have told me."

"I..." Astrid gnawed at her lower lip, raking her fingers through her recently trimmed bangs. They ran across the supple leather of her headband as they passed through her hair and Astrid shivered, reminded of the journey that lied before her, "Can you forgive me?"

Her mother didn't answer immediately, and Astrid couldn't help but suffer under the flurry of emotions that were beginning to well in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed back the swell of fear that came over her and chanced a glance in her mother's direction. The older woman's eyes were full of moisture.

"Yes," Mrs. Hofferson stifled a sob as she beckoned her eldest daughter closer, "But only if you return safely, Chief's boy or not."

"His name is Hiccup," she replied with a frown, crossing her arms, "I wish you didn't patronize him so much."

"I don't patronize him, I just don't know why—"

"Stop, please. Not right now."

Mrs. Hofferson opened her mouth in protest before pressing her lips into a thin line. She too realised that this was not the time for petty arguments.

"You'll see me again before midsummer. I promise."

Astrid dove in for a hug before her mother could say another word, and held onto her tightly, if only for a moment. She let go as quickly as she had taken hold, and allowed her mother to help her get her coat on. Astrid endured it out of emotional necessity as her mother fumbled with the buttons, fastening them all the way up to the furry rabbit collar that encircled her throat. The older woman muffled another sob against her sleeve and fiddled with her daughter's hood, checking her over one last time.

"Good luck. Be safe."

Astrid let her lips curl into a small smile, "I will."

The young warrior turned around and hauled the basket up over her shoulder, tugging her boots on with frightening efficiency. She peered over her shoulder and smiled at her mother once last time, before closing the front door with a thud behind her.

She hastened towards the barn at the back of her property, eyeing the large parcel lying in front of the shed's main doorway in the weak light. She let the basket drop to the ground and bent down to examine the package, curious as to its contents.

"Great Odin's ghost..."

She stared in astonishment as she unwrapped the large parcel, her jaw dropping as she felt the familiar weight in her hands. She started ripping the dirty fabric off of the offering, unimaginably eager to see the prize that lay underneath.

It was an axe. A brand new axe.

A wave of elation drove through her system as she gripped the smooth handle in her palms, perfectly balanced between the weights of the blades. And those blades, they shined like she had never seen metal shine before. They were a work of art, perfectly rounded, expertly crafted. She swung it around, once, twice, three times. It felt like an extension of her arms, fitting seamlessly within her grasp.

She grinned, her face lighting up with a madness she had never know existed inside her. She took her old axe from inside her basket and chucked it with wild abandon at her house, the bad side of the blade lodging itself defiantly in the wood. She smiled and proceeded to strap the brand new axe to her back, unwilling to chance losing it just in case the straps of her basket ever failed her. She nodded resolutely when she felt the leather strips were tight enough and brought her goggles out of the basket as well, fastening them around her head so that they could rest on the top of her bangs.

She hoisted the basket back onto her back for the last time and opened the door to the barn, whistling quietly to get the Nadder's undivided attention. Already outfitted in her riding gear, the blue dragon skittered out of the barn and stretched her wings, her gold eyes trained on Astrid with devoted approbation. The young warrior smiled and leapt onto the Nadder's back with only a small amount of difficulty, fiddling around once she got into the saddle. She clipped herself into the riding getup with the strap that attached to the loop of metal on the belt around her waist, and then settled in as comfortably as she could manage on the withers of the blue and yellow beast.

"Are you ready?"

The Nadder prattled excitably, skittering as it soaked in the anticipation of Astrid's all important question.

"Then let's fly."

* * *

Finally! We're out of Berk and on the road! It's about time, considering we're at chapter 6 already. I guess Horizons is going to go a little longer than I initially planned...

How did you like Fishlegs' little cameo? And are any of you going to kill me for trimming Astrid's bangs? Haha!

Please review! I'd love to hear what you think!

Love and fluff,

Bront_ë_


	12. Author's Note

(This was once the sight of an author's note.)

Intermission!

Hop over to the next chapter!


	13. Verðandi and the End of All Things VII

I'm finally back! Horizons is back in business, and its return is long overdue. But I'm hoping to get a bigger response now that summer is coming and I'll be posting regularly. I hope I haven't lost too many readers and reviewers!

We're half way through Horizons, and this is a big info chapter before we get into the serious action. Enjoy, and please review to let me know what you think!

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc 2: Verðandi and the End of All Things**_

_Chapter _VII

* * *

Whether by some miracle by the gods or not, the lowermost tip of Groenland began to bob mercifully in the distance on the horizon. Toothless was barely managing to beat his tired wings; he was practically flying dead as the trade winds pushed them graciously up north. Hiccup couldn't feel a bone in his body, let alone think straight.

Piloting half-dead was becoming a dangerous habit of his, apparently.

Within thirty minutes they were in landing distance of the coast, although the jagged shards of rock that protruded from the cliffs were going to prove to be dangerous to land on. Through half lidded eyes, Toothless somehow was able to find his footing, and the two of them landed on one of the windiest points Hiccup had ever found himself stomaching. He was practically holding onto the saddle for dear life, half afraid of being blown off like a sheet of linen in the wind. He fought to keep his eyes open, but the wind was making everything one hundred times more difficult than it needed to be.

"Toothless!" he screeched, his voice cracking as he forced his tired body to function, "Go inland!"

The Night Fury turned his head and barely cracked his eyes open, his mouth practically frothing with exertion. His features were virtually drooping off his bones.

"Come on bud!" Hiccup leant over to rub the dragon with assurance, but only managed to collapse onto his neck, "We have to keep going! We can't stay here!"

Toothless moaned and took a shaky step forward, threatening to crumple under his own weight. Hiccup grunted and leant down towards his prosthetic, unlatching all of the components that kept the tack performing. Once free, he swung his other leg over the dragon's side and flopped onto the ground, barely succeeding in bracing his impact with his forearms. The igneous rocks were sharp and unforgiving as they dug into his side, tearing through his clothes and into his pallid skin. He absently acknowledged the chill of freshly spilled blood as it began to soak his tunic, but the numbness in his body was enough to make him forget the pain just as quickly. He pulled himself upright painstakingly slow, groaning all the while, and just barely made it to his feet.

"Come on bud!" Hiccup urged again, his voice pleading against the shrieking wind, "We'll die if we don't find shelter soon!"

He grabbed onto Toothless' harness and began dragging him down the precarious precipice, his footing unsure as he manoeuvred through the boulders. He lost count of how many times he slipped on the clammy stones, bruising his body in places he didn't know existed. It felt like hours before he spotted something that looked remotely like flat land in the distance, mercifully close as a winter storm began closing in.

Hiccup could barely see a more than a foot in front of him as he finally reached the plateau behind the coast. The wind was just as callous as they continued their trek forward, held back by the colossal drifts of snow that continued to hinder their passage across the plains. He could make out a forest somewhere ahead of him as the flurries waxed and waned in the squall, blurring his vision and skewing his sense of direction. He grit his teeth against the bitter gusts of snow clogged gales and brought his forearm up to block the winds, soggy and exhausted.

The first of the windswept pines passed as he and his dragon trudged into the forest, panting and practically dying on their feet. The snow dunes were virtually impassable but they had to push through, they had to find somewhere to go in order to find shelter. Hiccup didn't want to die; he'd gone too far for the gods to kill him off just yet.

With a restored commitment, Hiccup continued to plough through the forest banks, dragging his partially frozen companion along behind him. Toothless was more than ready to collapse and be done with it; his mind was too fogged with the hypothermic sensations that continued to flog his wearied body to care.

Hiccup squinted his eyes tightly against the gusts of wind and swore he could make out some sort of large object in the distance. He wasn't sure if it was a rock mass, but he begged to Odin that it was. Cliffs and mountains usually always meant a promise of shelter, and Hiccup was ready to give up just about anything just to get out of the wind.

Sure enough, the serrated silhouette of a mountain began to come into focus, and Hiccup pushed his aching limbs to keep going in its direction. He was practically gagging with exertion; his vision was swimming and the world seemed to be shifting under his feet like a lethargic earthquake. The gape of a cave loomed tauntingly in the distance and his survival instinct kicked in harder than ever before, urging him to keep moving forwards.

If he had still been able to contort the muscles in his face, Hiccup would have shouted in relief as they ploughed through the drifts just inside the blessed mouth of the cave. The stony ground was strewn with a light powdering of snow but Hiccup couldn't bring himself to care any longer. His knees crumpled and his body deflated, falling into unconsciousness before he even hit the ground.

* * *

He was no less confortable when he started to rouse from his slumber, if the aching in his body was anything to go by. His face was mashed against something horribly rough and the way his ribs were digging into the gravel ridden floor was excruciating. He couldn't feel his feet or his hands; it felt as if the bottom half of his body was being crushed. He was too delusional to think straight, let alone open his eyes.

He moaned and tried to move the arm he sensed was somewhere sprawled out in front of him, pulling it close enough for it to brush against jaw bone. He followed his face as a guide until he discovered the rough surface his cheek was being pressed against, and trailed his fingers down as far as he could reach. His palm fell into a ridge he had been privy to before, and groaned in relief when he realized what it was.

He brought his hand away from Toothless' paw and attempted to wedge his fingers between the dragon's jagged scales and the skin of his cheek. It cost him all of his energy but he eventually managed to dislodge his face from Toothless' arm and drop it onto the floor. The gravel wasn't necessarily any better, but at least only his chin was involved in the abuse.

His mind was swimming; he could only vaguely remember how he had gotten himself plastered in between his hulking, heavy dragon and the freezing cold ground he was currently laying on. He was still too profoundly exhausted to remember anything except the jarring chill that encompassed a good three quarters of his body.

It was the snuffling that seemed to originate from somewhere in front of him that effectively awoke him from his drowsy reverie. His mind fought to try and pinpoint how such a noise could come from that direction when Hiccup could more or less decipher his dragon's tell-tale snores coming from somewhere to his left. He furrowed his eyebrows as the sniffing continued to get loudly, feeling more and more confused. How could such a thing happen? How could Toothless be in two places at once?

His hair ruffled upwards against a warm current of air, signalling that another sniffing source had joined in on the noise making party. Hiccup was even more perplexed; had Toothless somehow managed to move his head to the other side of his body? Had he fallen asleep and then woken up again without realizing the change until just now? Hiccup breathed out and let his body relax in understanding. That must be the reason – after all, what other explanation could there be?

Hiccup cracked open his eyelids, trying very hard to focus on whatever it was in front of him. It was something big, he quickly realized, and it was most certainly the source of at least some of the sniffing. Hiccup shut his eyes again in relief and tried to calm the dizziness all of his efforts had cost him, pleased none the less that he had discovered the source of the noisy, tepid breath.

Hiccup's eyes flew open and he practically lifted the free half of his body off of the ground with sheer alarm. He shrieked, effectively scaring both himself and whatever had just unceremoniously stuck its nose in his face. He caught himself on his elbows before he could come crashing back onto the gravel and tried desperately to free his legs, but he quickly and painfully realized the lower half of his body was stuck underneath his slumbering dragon for good.

"Toothless!" he hissed, elbowing the Night Fury as hard as he possibly could in the face. The dragon stirred and moaned in protest before swatting blindly at the source of his annoyance, squashing his rider like a fly beneath his paw.

"Stop that!" Hiccup threw the offending appendage off of his head and started pounding at the dragon's scales with his fists, "You stupid, useless reptile! Get off of me! We're not alone in here!"

Toothless opened one green eye, staring daggers at his squirming little human. How dare the hatchling disrupt him when he was so clearly sleeping? It was absolutely uncalled for – if he wanted something, he should have used that big brain of his to figure something out –

_Dragon._

Both pupils contracted into slivers as an unfamiliar waft of dragon essence flooded his senses, kicking his instincts into defence mode. He shifted onto his hind legs and wrapped his hatchling up in his arms, effectively shielding the young human from any possible harm.

The Night Fury growled softly as two silhouettes stirred in the shadows, one significantly larger than the other. Toothless could barely hear them over the muffled screams of his hatchling that he was all but smothering in his arms. To his surprise however, the two figures weren't emitting any sort of threatening noise at all.

He perked his earplates in their direction and rose out of his protective stance, still keeping his hatchling shielded with one of his forelegs. Hiccup gasped, desperately heaving in the oxygen that he had just been deprived of. He glared angrily at Toothless but his curiosity eventually won out, and his attentions were drawn to the two shapes deeper inside the cave.

"Hello?" Hiccup called out quietly, hating the way his voice cracked as it echoed against the stone walls. He was just about to repeat himself when the smaller of the two outlines shifted and warbled a quiet reply.

It took a step forward and Hiccup nearly choked on his tongue as it passed into the light. It was a dragon, no more than a few feet tall and wide. Its bare paws were three times the size of its body, and its horns were just barely protruding through his scales on the top of its head. Its eyes weren't unlike those on a Terrible Terror in that they were huge in proportion to its body, but something about this dragon was remarkable different unlike anything he had ever seen before.

It was a baby.

The form that Hiccup rightfully assumed to be its parent followed suit and he was once again astounded. This dragon looked like some sort of dignified royalty, aloof in every manner of the word. Its face was elongated and narrow and its neck was slender and lean. Its body was covered in gleaming scales of ivory white with only a few details of ice blue lining the chest.

All in all, the white dragon outshined nearly every aspect of the baby, who looked more like a mangey copper blob in comparison. The scrawny dragon was covered in burnished scales that seemed to be almost worn in places as Hiccup continued to look closer. A flare of indignation suddenly flared in his gut; did this beautiful, majestic dragon have anything to do with suffering of this small one? It looked so unhealthy…

Hiccup loosened himself from Toothless' hold on his torso and approached the baby, hands out in a sign of trust and assurance. The small one spooked as Hiccup neared its bony flank, but he didn't skitter back any further. The white dragon watched the encounter with curious eyes, and exchanged a look with the ebony dragon sitting across from it.

Toothless motioned his head slightly, inquiring as to how the meagre hatchling had fallen into her possession. She garbled sharply, her expression ironic, and asked him the very same question in response.

Keeping one eye on his hatchling and the other on the female dragon before him, Toothless explained more or less what had happened between them. Her eyes grazed his body, hugely inquisitive at the sight of his prosthetic tail. She expressed that she had never seen such a thing, having never existed where she might be forced to confront a human society for an extended amount of time.

Toothless continued his tale, eventually leading to the story of their departure and the events that had led them inevitably here. She stilled when he described the creature that had chased them, explaining what it had said and what it had done. She seemed especially concerned when he told her that his hatchling, his human hatchling, could hear its voice as well.

Her attention towards Hiccup expanded tenfold as she narrowed her eyes towards boyish form. She knew very little of humans, but they had been described to her as being these hulking masses of unshielded flesh. _This_ human was slender, gawky – nothing remarkable. And how on earth had he managed to hear the beast?

The dragoness, sensing the Night Fury's fatigue, invited him deeper into the cave. She explained that this had become her nest on temporary grounds, having been forced to stop her voyage across the oceans. She didn't elaborate much further than that, but the endearing look she gave the emaciated dragon over her shoulder was enough of an answer to placate him.

The four of them walked through a dizzying labyrinth of caves that eventually led to a large cavern, awash with a deep auburn light. Like many mountains in the region, this one was built on a moltenous core that warmed the rock consistently from within. Toothless delighted in the warmth that began to overtake his weary muscles, and the look on his hatchlings face indicated that he wasn't alone in his relief.

The white dragon wasn't able to offer them much in terms of food – she hadn't been able to hunt because of the storms that had been ruthlessly condemning the region. Most of what she did find went to the russet dragon, who he guessed to be no more than a few years old. It hadn't learnt how to speak, which concerned her deeply as she sought to serve Toothless the last of the elk she had caught.

The Night Fury watched as his own hatchling coddled the scrawny babe, scratching it gently beneath its chin and behind its ears. The small one absolutely adored all of the attention being given to him, and would barely let Hiccup move more than a few inches away before loyally siding up to him again. Hiccup was endeared by its desire to remain attached at the hip, but he was immensely tired and eventually nodded off against the dragon's withers.

In wake of their slumber, Toothless asked again for her story, which she cautiously described. She was a snow dragon, a nomadic creature without ties to her clan. Toothless didn't pretend to understand, having come from a drove that prided itself on their unity. But he could relate with her somewhat in that they were both independent creatures, even if hers was voluntary and his was by force.

She explained that she had found him alone somewhere in the plains of the midland, starving and crying and entirely alone. She admitted that her motherly instincts had been too much to ignore, and that she had been trying to nurse him back to health ever since.

Silence overtook them in the large cavern, their croons and warbles having waned into peace. But an unanswered question still remained, and it itched at him from the inside. Dragons were naturally open creatures around those of their kin, but he had been separate from them for so long and he still couldn't help the hesitation.

So why had she turned to rock when he had mentioned the beast?

* * *

When Toothless awoke some hours after, he felt far more rested than he had in days. He hadn't slept surrounded by warmth since he and his hatchling had left the recesses of Berk's highest nest and the respite from the winter chill was welcome. He opened his eyes and found Hiccup still sleeping soundly on the baby dragon, snoring softly with every catching breath.

He scanned the panorama for the enigmatic white dragon and found her pruning herself near one of the walls, washing the grime off her scales in the waters of a spring. He pulled himself to his feet and made to join her, plunking himself down across from her and the spring.

He started to ask a question but she effectively cut him off with a question of her own, watching as the effects of her words took over his expression. She marvelled at the way he and his hatchling appeared so similarly, despite the obvious differences in their species.

He tried to explain himself, but he was having trouble finding the words to say. He was wary to speak the truth, but her accusations were hurtful to his pride. Of course he wasn't acting more like a human than a dragon.

Was he?

The white dragon laughed at his bewilderment and told him to take no offense. She was simply perplexed at his guarded behaviour; it had been a long time since she had encountered a dragon of his species. Toothless wanted desperately to ask more but held his tongue, unwilling to have to speak of his unconventionality.

He explained that his hatchling had become his source of life, and that he was worried for him. Something was hunting them, something that could cause great destruction, and the Night Fury was afraid for his human's wellbeing.

The dragoness sighed and turned her head away from him, her expression unreadable. He could sense her contemplation but he was unsure of how to urge her to continue. He hoped his cause would be enough.

She finally conceded, pulling her wings up around her body. She requested that he make himself comfortable; it was a long tale, but she would try and condense it as best she could.

The Leviathan, as she called it, was a mythical beast that none of her nomadic family knew much about. As she moved with them to the upper mountains of Siberia, she heard and learnt more and more stories about its reign of destruction, specifically in the mid regions of the Great Continent. Its ceaseless reign of horror had been incorporated into many cultures, dragonese, mammalian, and even human. The dragons of Mongol and China shared a belief that the snake would swallow the ocean, causing a famine so widespread that they would be forced to leave their homelands forever or face extinction. The Slavic and Ural dragons believed that the snake craved for death and sought to kill every creature that it could in order to overtake to God of the Dead. She spoke of Jormungadr and of Nidhogg, and how the latter was said to choke the life out of anything it touched.

She explained that the snake had been around long before the creation of dragons, and lived in the sea where his majestic size could easily be hidden. The water dragons that she had spoken to had said that the creature brought destruction wherever it went, and that their families would gladly leave their homes for shelter at the opposite end of the ocean if they learnt that _He_ was on his way.

All creatures, she had learnt, regarded this monster as a god, even though he was not worshipped even in the darkest of cults. They denoted to him as something to fear, something to hide from and something to be utterly terrified of. He was incorporated into the warnings of parents, threatening their children to 'clean your nest or the Leviathan will eat you'. But this creature was no joking matter – it had brought much destruction and when it fixated, you were as good as dead.

Toothless asked what she meant by a fixation, and the dragoness was more than willing to elaborate. She spoke of a time some 600 winters ago in the province of the Galilee dragons where the Leviathan had become obsessed and enraged. He wreaked havoc on their kingdoms, killing humans, animals and dragons alike. No one was safe until the creature became bored with his efforts and moved on to another most unfortunate fascination.

She warned him that the Leviathan's interest could mean an assortment of things, all of which were not particularly inspiring. She said that his attack could have been random, but this option seemed unlikely. She theorized that the Norse countries could be the next victim of his homicidal rampage.

Toothless didn't reply for some time, gazing off towards his human companion. He was still sleeping soundly, contentedly curled up near the source of mountain's heat, and Toothless felt his heart lurch in knowing that flying over the open water now could very well lead to his injury, or worse. He didn't want to think of the latter as he shifted on his paws, eyes finally returning to the white snow dragon.

There was something she wasn't telling him.

He implored her to reveal what she was hiding but she blew him off, intentionally turning her back to him. He was furious and begged that he help her, for his hatchling's sake. He put his pride aside and sought her as she walked away, pleading with her to share all that she knew.

She sighed, hating the way his cries echoed in the expanse of the cavern. They were mournful, and she was reminded that his adoptive hatchling was his family. She had gathered already that he was of independent means; all of the Night Furies she knew lived and travelled in close packs. Rarely was a Night Fury ever alone for more than a lunar cycle and from what she had gathered, this one had been on its own for centuries.

She told him that she still had another theory, but that he wouldn't like it. She said that it would be extremely unlikely, but total fixation on a singular entity had happened in recorded history once before, to a drove of Ancient Kushan dragons and the human warriors that worshipped them. The Leviathan had become infatuated with the minute village on the coast of India and sought to suck the life out of them for sport, even if it meant waiting years to find them all.

The unspoken option hung in the air like a heavy cloud of smoke, and the fear that was starting to claw at his insides sought to suck all the warmth from his veins. He scampered over to his hatchling and brought him up in his arms, ignoring the sounds of his surprised cries as he cuddled him close to his body.

He would _never_ let this creature harm his Hiccup hatchling.

Even if it meant spending his dying breaths trying to save him.

* * *

How did you like the chapiter from Toothless' perspective? It was really hard to create dialogue between two dragons without actually writing any dialogue. Did this format work for you? Did you like it? Hate it?

A lot of the Leviathan's evil deeds that I outlined in the dragoness' tale are from actual stories from the Ancient Chinese, Nordic, Eastern Scandinavian and Israeli cultures. I just twisted them around a little bit :)

Please review and let me know what you think!

Brontë


	14. Verðandi and the End of All Things VIII

**Okay, so this is a bit of a short chapter, and I apologize. I had to tie some loose ends up before I got on to the good stuff, which will begin its steep climax in the next chapter :)**

**Note: Two of my reviewers brought this up, and I figured I might as well clear this up for you guys as well. I know that in the movie, Stoic says something about leaving before the ice sets in, leading us all to believe that the ocean is going to freeze over. NOT TRUE. The reasons why the Vikings thrived during 900-1300 AD was because of the "Medieval Warming Period". This means that the oceans didn't freeze over at all, which is why the Vikings were able to colonize in Greenland and Newfoundland. It was like El Nino and major warm air currents from the south combined, which made for balmy summers and moderate winters (by Scandinavian standards). Thus, evil snakes of doom could pop up at anytime! Yay!**

**Also, my beta has been MIA so if you see any mistakes (I am a frenchwoman, have mercy), please leave me some sort of message so I can fix it!**

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc 2: Verðandi and the End of All Things**_

_Chapter _VIII

* * *

In the months since Hiccup had irrefutably saved the village of Berk from starving to death and eventually burning to the ground, Astrid had learnt a thing or two about her Deadly Nadder. They were, of course, demanding and compulsively narcissistic, but they were also a resilient and hardy species. Their endurance could not be matched by any other dragon she had come across in the village since the battle of the Red Death, even by the illustrious Night Fury. Where the ebony dragon excelled in nimble acrobatics and vertical take-offs, the Nadder surpassed their flying capacity twice over without having to stop for food or rest. This, Astrid thought to herself as she soared over the ocean, would give her an explicit advantage over her prey.

They were flying into the outer reaches of a storm cell and Astrid tugged the goggles that had been resting on her head over her eyes. The air was getting progressively colder and colder as they made their way further west, and she was fighting to keep herself alert as they flew amidst the clouds. It had grown dark a long time ago and she was completely exhausted, but she knew that they had to continue to fly through the night. She was thirsty and hungry too, but starving herself was essentially the only way they were going to make up the lost time without having to stop.

She banded her hands to the saddle with strips of leather, just in case she nodded off against her will while they were flying. Her fingers were numb with cold but she forced herself to make them work, despite the shooting pains that volleyed up and down her arms every time she moved. She took the leather in her teeth as she battled to tie her dominant hand to the saddle's handle, groaning when she breathed the glacial, icy clouds through her mouth. It hurt her lungs as the frozen water scraped her from the inside, and finishing the knot on her hands with a painful tug was all that she could do to keep from screaming.

She fell asleep a little before dawn and woke up a few hours later, starving and desperate for water. The snow storm had waned for the moment and Astrid could see bits and pieces of the ocean beneath them through the clouds, but Astrid frantically needed to get down. She urged her dragon towards the seas and the Nadder respectfully complied, dipping her azure body through the arctic clouds towards the choppy, frothing surface. Within minutes, there was a small island within their line of sight.

The Nadder landed gently on the closest of the snow covered slopes and Astrid raced to untie her frozen hands. Once freed, she leapt off of the dragon and tore her water bottle from the basket on her back, tossing the cap behind her. She drowned it in one go, gulping madly, as water spurted down her face and onto her jacket. She tossed it to the side when she was finished and started stuffing sheep jerky and dried fruits into her mouth, frantic to quell the aching in her stomach.

She collapsed against the fallen trunk of a tree, feeling strangely at odds with herself. This 'chasing after Hiccup' thing was becoming decidedly more difficult than she had anticipated. She sighed and cupped her chin in her palms, lifting the goggles off of her eyes.

She just wasn't cut out for this.

She lifted herself back onto her feet and whisked her axe from the leather straps on her back, hating how much the simple movements were proving to be excruciating. Her muscles were on fire as she whipped the edge of the freshly minted axe into the closest tree, succeeding in felling it with only a few swipes of the blade. She made quick work of sectioning the pieces she needed, and bent down to arrange them in order to start a fire.

All it took was a nod in the dragon's direction for the Nadder to take the hint, and within seconds the logs were ablaze. Astrid dragged another stump towards the inferno and sat down on top of it with a grunt, burying her face in her palms.

Love is stupid.

That dreadful word ran through her mind for the hundredth time since she had taken off from the coasts of Berk, and she inwardly chastised herself for it. She wanted to just kick herself in the head if she could, if only to get herself to stop thinking about the very reason she was out here, chasing a boy she wasn't even sure she could find. Astrid was a stubborn as a mule, of that she was well aware of, but she was also a realist; how in Midgard was she going to be able to track him down?

She considered herself an expert hunter, and she knew that this would prove to be beneficial on her part. Searching the islands for signs of his recent occupation might be her best bet, provided that he left any sort of signs in his wake. The snow from the most recent storm would make things difficult, but Astrid would make do. She was good at tracking, and even better at stalking down her prey.

But why did he have to make things so damn difficult?

Here she was, practically risking life and limb to find this boy…and why was she out here again? Right, because she loved him. That stupid, stupid word. She just wanted to strangle it, and then tie it down and bring her axe to it, and then chop it up and be done with it!

But, these sentiments were turning out to be more difficult to deal with then she had previously assessed, especially concerning the fact that she had never had any experience with this kind of….feeling before.

Sometimes it felt like her stomach was flipping like a fish on deck when she got lost in her thoughts of him. It was annoying, but she couldn't attribute the nausea to anything but him. It was like some sort of debilitating sickness, in that she simply couldn't stop thinking about him, which was becoming more and more irritating. It was maddening, infuriating, downright frustrating! She just wanted to drop kick him halfway across the ocean in her aggravation but he had already beaten her to it!

Gods! Why did she have to fall in love?

She contemplated throwing herself off of the stump she was sitting on in sheer exasperation, but she was just starting to feel the warmth of the fire seep back into her fingers and toes. That would have been a stupid thing to do anyways, and she was already feeling stupid enough. She'd never felt this ridiculous in her entire life, and it would have been laughable if she hadn't been sitting there, alone, chasing a stupid boy that was the cause of all of this anyway.

She pulled herself to her feet and started kicking snow over top of the dying fire, finally satisfied with the lack of numbness in her limbs. She swept her axe over her footsteps as she backpedalled towards her Nadder, pausing only to fill her water skin with snow before packing everything away and climbing up onto the dragon's back. She latched her safety harness onto the saddle and tucked her boots into the stirrups, already missing the warmth of the fire.

She nudged the dragon in the ribs with her heel and within moments they were off of the ground, making quick work of the distance between the ocean and the clouds. She braced herself against the onslaught of the icy slivers that made up the clouds, hating the way they scraped against the exposed skin on her cheeks. Once they had levelled out some hundreds of feet above the ocean, Astrid pulled the goggles over her eyes and her scarf further overtop of her cheeks.

The clouds were dissipating in patches, and through the holes Astrid could see a myriad of little islands dotting the northern seas. She glanced at them, wondering if he had ever set foot on any of them. She wondered suddenly if they were going in the right direction at all.

She settled herself in the saddle, attempting to get as comfortable as she could manage. If they were ever going to catch up to them, she was going to be in for a long ride.

* * *

When Hiccup awoke the next morning, he still felt groggy but it was a considerable improvement to the way he remembered feeling the day before. Or the night before – there was no telling what time it was at the heart of a mountain.

He ran his fingers through his messy hair, mussing it in an attempt to shake the sleepy haze from his mind. He pushed himself upright and immediately regretted it, hissing in pain. His side felt like it had all but caught on fire, burning and aching and throbbing to the hurried rhythm of his heart. His hands instinctively grasped the source of his pain and he screwed his eyes shut, remembering with a fair amount of mind fog what had happened to him. He had fallen on his desperate way to safety, driving a shard of igneous rock straight between his ribs.

He started peeling the layers of clothes off of his body, grimly noting as the bloody stains grew larger and larger the closer he came to his bare skin. Once he finally reached his green tunic, he wasn't quite sure whether he wanted to thank the gods or throw up. How had he managed to live? The entire lower half of the shirt was _soaked_ in dried blood.

He peeled the shirt up above his chest and barely held back the bile that had started to rise in his throat. The gash was nearly the length of his hand – the serrated skin was bowing out the sides and the bruised skin around it was caked with flecks of clotted blood. He dry retched and tried to compose himself, battling between the pain in his side and the nausea in his stomach.

With a great amount of difficulty, Hiccup pulled the rest of his tunic over his head and sat bare chested, staring down at the gash as if it were alive. It needed to be washed, but he was too stricken to look away, engrossed in the sigh of his massacred side. How the Hel had he survived that?

Something rustled in the space behind him and Hiccup finally tore his eyes away, seeking out the source of the noise. He turned his head and peered over his shoulder, trying to find the cause of the racket over the hump of the baby dragon's snoozing back.

Toothless pulled his body from the warm stones by the spring in the mountain, roused from his slumber by the tang of copper that mottled the mountain air. He'd smelt it before, but it had grown immeasurably stronger, alerting him to his hatchling's waking.

The dragon walked over to the human, his face expressionless as he eyed the wound on the boy's side. He was afraid he had only made it worse when he had pulled the somnolent boy into a spontaneous embrace a few hours ago, but chose to let him fall back asleep rather than harass him into pulling off his clothes for the dragon to take a look.

Hiccup sat still as the dragon approached him, watching warily as Toothless eyed the gaping wound. He sniffed it, keeping a fair distance way, before bringing his gaze to his hatchling with a silent request.

Hiccup reeled; he knew what was coming.

And before he could stop it, Toothless had slathered his tongue over the skin of his ribs, covering his body in a thick film of drool. He was torn between wanting to shove the slimy, overprotective reptile off of him and laughing out loud at how much the slobbery soaked tongue was tickling his skin.

Once the dragon was satisfied, he stepped away and lay down on his haunches a few feet away. He stared off towards the mouth of the cave, unable to keep the draconic grin from spreading across his features as his hatchling griped and grumbled behind him. He kept his eyes peeled for the dragoness to return, but kept his ears perked back, just waiting for the boy to gasp.

"What the Hel!"

Toothless didn't have to turn around to see that the gash in his side was slowly knitting itself together at a rate he was sure his hatchling had never seen before. Hiccup grazed his fingers against the offending wound as the less damaged corners began to seal themselves, sending tingling sensations across his skin. He sat back against the still slumbering baby dragon and watched as the fibres plaited together at the pace of a blooming flower, barely noticeable until you looked away.

Toothless observed as the dragoness strode through the mouth of the cave, her kill hanging limply between her jaws. Toothless rose to his feet and helped her with the game, sharing the load as they made their way towards the far side of the grotto. Hiccup was too engrossed in his own miraculous healing process to hear the grisly cracking of the bones and tendons, and for that Toothless was glad.

The dragoness nudged her young awake and the baby cheerfully followed its adoptive mother, squealing in delight as he filled his empty belly. Hiccup took a moment to dig some of the preserved jerky from his pack and snacked on it, pleased to stare in the other direction now that his backrest was gone.

He raised himself off of the floor of the cave and sat down on a flat sheet of rock, lying back onto the warm, hard surface. He stared up at the stalactites as the hot stones all but melted the tension from his muscles and allowed his mind to wander, drifting back through his recent memories and his past. He wondered what his father was doing right now back on the island; he wondered how Gobber was faring without the extra help in the shop.

He wondered how Astrid was.

He let his eyes close at the thought, picturing her in his mind's eye. Blonde hair, blue eyes as deep as the sea…he sighed, remembering that bittersweet moment when he had kissed her like a madman. His lip quirked slightly – maybe being a madman was a bit of an understatement…

He was crazy for leaving at the brink of winter, but by the gods, what a Hel of a ride! Hiccup tucked his palms behind his head and gazed back up towards the ceiling of the cave. He couldn't help but feel at ease in the huge cavern, tucked away from all of the chaos that reigned outside. He had thought that the storm would have been the end of both of them, especially after almost getting drowned and strangled at the same time by whatever the Hel in Midgard had tried to kill them across the ocean.

He wished fruitlessly that somehow, there could be a way that he could communicate with Toothless, if only for a minute. He had a feeling that the dragon knew a lot more about the tidal wave attack than he did, and he only hoped that Toothless knew enough to keep them both safe.

He closed his eyes again and let his thoughts dip in and out of focus. He thought about his old bedroom, and how the baseboards were splintered in the far corner by his desk. He thought about his last moments on the island when he had grazed his fingertips against the statues of the Norns, carved from the volcanic rock that made up most of his homeland. He made a silent prayer, asking Verðandi to let this moment of relaxation last forever. He was content to spend a lifetime envisioning the woman of his dreams, surrounded by a blanket of tepid air…

Completely and utterly free.

* * *

The clouds parted in front of her, revealing the disk of the northern moon reflecting brilliantly in the seas. The winds had calmed to a gentle breeze, aiding them in their passage as they soared westward across the skies. She had a clear view of the ocean below them, illuminated by the light of the celestial body that sat low in the sky. It was bright enough that she could see the details of the waves beneath her, opaque navy ripples amidst a canvas of cerulean blue.

She fastened her non-dominant hand to the saddle and let the other one hang free for a while, content to watch the seas rolling endlessly beneath her. The flight had been remarkably peaceful in comparison to the night before, and the waning of the winter storm had provided her with a chance to enjoy the view of the seas from above.

Her Nadder bobbed rhythmically as her wings swept them across the sky, lulling Astrid into a daze. The stars in the sky blended together with the waves of the ocean, fitting seamlessly together in a tranquil reverie. A sense of peace enveloped her body and she slowly began to nod off, lying over the neck of her dragon.

She suddenly jerked awake, fighting against the precipitous feeling of drowsiness. The beats of her Nadder's wings had slowed as well, and they were gradually sinking towards the whitecaps on the ocean. Astrid tried to rouse the dragon from its sudden lethargy but she was having a hard enough time keeping herself awake; it was as if something had poisoned the air.

She squinted her eyes towards the horizon, making out some sort of blurry object floating on the surface of the sea. She leant over and slapped her Nadder on the nose as hard as she could, taking advantage of the extra height to try and get a glimpse of whatever was adrift on the waves. The dragon shook its head in annoyance and started struggling against the unexpected sensation of sleep as well, fighting to obtain the height she had lost in her momentary doze.

Astrid peeled the goggles off of her eyes and strained to see what the object was, urging the Nadder to fly faster. The dragon groaned in reluctant compliance and started to pick up the pace, her nostrils picking up a scent she hadn't smelt in a century.

The Nadder's pupils contracted into slits as her eyes started to distinguish the strange shape in the water, writhing like an eel on the crashing waves. The dragon spooked and tried to gain even more altitude, still fighting against the sickly sweet scent in the air that made her want to fall asleep.

Astrid's eyes fought to focus, but it didn't take long for her to figure out what the object was. As they flew over the first part of it, Astrid realized that it stretched out for as far as her eye could see, even past the oncoming horizon. She wrinkled her nose in anxiety and wrestled to keep the feeling of dread from taking hold of her insides, suddenly afraid of what would lie at the end.

They soared over it for what seemed like hours, and it was just nearing dawn when she finally saw the end of the enormous object lolling in the seas. She slowed her Nadder down as they reached the end, eyes wide as she stared in horror at the gigantic mould of a snakehead, easily the size of an island. The decaying, moulted skin of a snake bobbed up and down as if it were mocking her, and Astrid quickly urged her Nadder to fly away.

Astrid shivered, but whether it was because of the chill or the huge snake skin, she couldn't tell. There was no doubt in her mind as to what could have created such a thing, not with the stories of her childhood ringing in her ears. She just prayed to every god she could think of that it wasn't after her.

She shuddered, not even wanting to say its name.

Jormundgadr.

The harbinger of death.

She made a silent prayer, begging Freya to keep them, and _him_, safe.

* * *

Jormungandr was known to spew poisonous gases from his maw in order to kill his prey without too much effort. He was a prickly, lazy bastard. Silly snake-ums!

Please review and let me know what you think! Honestly, the speed in which I write will reflect on the amount of response I get...I'm starting to get sucked into a new fandom (my dA page is proof!) and I seriously need some inspiration here.

Brontë


	15. Verðandi and the End of All Things IX

**Well! It's been a very busy two weeks for me since I posted last. Not only did I get accepted to university to upgrade my degree in septembre, but I also got featured in the art features on the dA group httyd-fanarts! I received a nomination feature and an admin pick, which is rare and super awesome! The piece is called Smile As You Kill and I highly recommended that you read it; it has one of the highest review counts for a oneshot on this fandom so thank you to all that reviewed, favourited and nominated me! **

**We're winding up towards the end of the second arc! I hope you all enjoy this longer chapiter!**

**(Cookies to anyone that can pinpoint the KFP reference!)**

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc 2: Verðandi and the End of All Things**_

_Chapter IX_

* * *

Having to basically raise himself during the majority of his childhood, Hiccup was used to running through the domestic tasks that were usually done by the wife in a typical Viking household. Laundry certainly wasn't one of his favourite chores; the constant, eternal scrubbing back and forth was enough to make his hands – and his eyes – bleed. But, when every single one of your garments (and there were a lot) were covered in dried blood, well, washing incessantly was your only option.

He'd manage to transport enough water into a shallow basin in the floor of the cavern, not wanting to contaminate the natural spring they were using as a source of drinking water. For two hours now, Hiccup had been scouring the living daylights out of the stains in the fabric of his clothes, rubbing them against a makeshift washboard; it was only a roughly square shaped piece of stone and it was doing its job more or less, but it didn't stop him from griping about it anyway.

The dragoness watched the human from afar, curious as to the boy's eccentric state of undress. It shocked her that humans seemed to have no outer defenses save the wool and metal they wore on their backs, and underneath it all was even more unnerving. The boy was nothing but pinkish skin that was obviously easily penetrable, the gash on his side holding all the proof that her observations required.

Toothless tipped his head and expressed that he had felt similarly, that is until he had learnt more about their species while he and his hatchling had first started their unlikely friendship. He reiterated that, although the human race seemed weak and defenceless, it is their minds that make them formidable and dangerous opponents.

Well, some of them anyway.

Hiccup sat back onto his haunches, attempting to get into a more comfortable position. A ridge in one of the rocks was digging into his backside but he stubbornly remained sitting on it, grudgingly averse to wasting any more of his precious energy by moving.

The dragoness raised an eyebrow in the Night Fury's direction, noting with amusement the look of defiant discomfort on the human's features. Toothless shrugged, another sign of his prolonged exposure to humans, and tried to reason with the female, assuring her that Hiccup wasn't always this ridiculous.

She schooled her face into an incredulous expression, but otherwise said nothing.

Pushing himself to his feet, Hiccup gathered the final piece of clothing that he had finished scrubbing and stretched it out against a rock to dry. He walked over towards the baby dragon and bent down to rub the drowsy tot, smiling lightly in endearment. It cooed contentedly and rolled over to expose its belly, and Hiccup happily scratched him with the pads of his fingers, being careful to avoid his healing scales.

The rate in which the dragon was recovering was miraculous, and Hiccup couldn't help but look back down at his own healing wound. It hadn't healed entirely, not yet anyway; there was still a garish looking scar running parallel along the outlines of his ribs and the skin was still mottled with scabs. But still…he had never seen something heal that fast in his entire life!

And, as it turned out, it wasn't just the slobber of a Night Fury; the dragoness groomed her baby with her tongue a few times a day, and already the little guy was a hundred times healthier than he had been when Hiccup had first woken up in their cave.

Hiccup stroked the tot's ears absently, staring off towards the two communicating dragons – if dragons were capable of healing grievous flesh wounds, what else were they capable of?

He glanced over towards Toothless, noting the restlessness in the way he kneaded his paws against the stone floor. The eternally earthbound dragon was yearning to be back in the skies, and his rider was no exception. He'd lost track of the time they had frittered resting up in the cave, although Hiccup couldn't claim that the time hadn't been needed. He was still feeling the residual effects of nearly bleeding out in every muscle in his tired body, and he certainly couldn't deny how awesome it was to be able to catnap whenever he pleased.

Nevertheless, no matter how enjoyable being lazy was – he was a teenaged boy after all – the permanency of it all was starting to rub him in the wrong direction. He'd been stuck in one place his entire life; he almost felt a little cheated since he had been more or less forced to embark on this unintended holiday.

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying in vain to count the days since they had taken refuge in the heart of the mountain. He had lost track of time, as much as he loathed to admit it. He snatched his notebook from his pack and counted the scratches of charcoal he had marked on the very first page. It had been just over a fortnight before his run in with the giant tidal wave, and he marked the day he had missed down with his marker. But after that, he noted with some dismay, the daily tally was a mystery.

Toothless eventually took notice of his hatchling's stare and locked eyes, sensing the same bustle of emotions churning within them. Their need to be free was pressing, and eventually they would have to continue the journey they had set out to reach. For Hiccup, it was to find the end of the world. For Toothless, it was simply inner peace.

Hiccup flipped through his notebook to a sketch of his late mother. He had duplicated it numerous times from the portrait of her above the weapons rack, and each time he felt like he was getting closer and closer to the real thing. He had painted her eyes emerald with the juices of a crushed stinging nettle leaf, and tinted her cheeks with the nectar of a wild strawberry plant. He ran his thumb across the bridge of her nose, smoothing out the heavy stroke of charcoal to mirror the gentle expression in her eyes.

What he wouldn't give to see her again…

He breathed out slowly, balling his free hand into a fist. He'd never be accepted forever on the island of Berk, but in the eyes of his mother…he knew she would be proud of him. She'd believe in him, despite all of his flaws. He was a left handed, one legged freak; if anyone could willingly tolerate such an abomination, it was his mother.

He was trembling before he could realize it, fighting to supress a hundred and one inclement emotions that fought to tear him to the very core. He glared down at his sorry excuse for a leg with vexation and fought to keep his reactions at bay, hating the way his body was betraying his thoughts. He wondered if anyone back home even missed him for who he was; he figured they would only grieve because he was no longer available to answer their questions. He reckoned his father was more or less pleased with his son's disappearance – Hiccup had only ever been a pain for him anyway, and now he would have nothing to worry over when he returned to the house every night. It's not like he would miss his presence; even when they were both in the same room, it still felt like an empty house.

And Astrid. Gods…

Was it okay if he openly admitted to himself that he was madly in love with her? It wasn't like it truly mattered; he was never going to see her again, let alone hear her voice, or run his fingers through her golden hair. And her lips…by Thor, he had never felt anything so surreal in his life. She was like a Valkyrie, enrapturing him in her beauty every time he thought of her. She was everything he had ever dreamed about. But had she even loved him back? Had she already gotten over him and moved on, like he had urged her to do in his letter?

It hurt him to think about her being with another. He wondered who she would eventually end up married to, and what their children would look like. Over and over again, his mind drifted over to what _their_ children would have looked like, even though he continued to chide himself over dreaming about the impossible. Would they have had blonde hair like hers, with freckles spattering their cheeks? Would they have had red hair like his, and beautiful blue eyes that sung of the depths of the sea?

He tossed his notebook off of his lap and leapt to his feet, straining his limbs against the onslaught of emotions that portended to tear him to pieces. He wanted to just get up and run away from his troubles, but he knew in his heart that the true nuisance at hand was his own self esteem warring against him. He could never be good enough, brave enough, smart enough…he'd never be normal enough. And wasn't that what he had always wanted? To be able to fit in, to be normal? He glared down at his prosthetic, overwhelmed with a sensation of loathing and dread.

His mother would understand.

Right?

He sighed, realizing how incredibly juvenile he was being. Even if there was an abyss at the end of the world, no mere man – let alone a boy – could pass into the realm of Asgard.

The real reason for his departure, although shrouded by forlorn hopes of seeing his long deceased mother, was to escape. Escape the ridicule that would return eventually, escape the bad memories of days long passed, when he was the butt end of every wounding joke. Maybe he was never meant to be with humans at all; maybe the Norns foretold that he was destined to live with dragons forever, and forsake every ounce of humanity that had ever rooted inside of him.

The tension in the cave was as thick as the fog of a spring morning, ominous and suffocating. The dragoness stiffened, sensing the exchange of emotions between the Night Fury and his hatchling. The disquiet they were both feeling was mutual; she was nomadic by nature, and eventually she needed to continue her journey to the lesser continent across the seas. She strode over and collected her young, grooming him and communicating her need for a new home. The baby cuddled to its mother instinctively, happy as long as he would never be abandoned again.

Hiccup strode over to the Night Fury's tack and held it silently, waiting as the dragon made its way over to his side. He didn't have to speak to get his needs across; they were both more than ready to move on with their adventure.

Hiccup stifled a yawn with his forearm and Toothless urged him to get some rest before they packed up and finally left the continent of Groenland behind them. Hiccup nodded, acquiescing easily to the dragon's request. The young rider pulled a woollen blanket from a few rocks away around his nearly naked body and settled against the ebony dragon's scales, willing himself to fall asleep. He did eventually, but his dreams were plagued with thoughts of darkness.

* * *

Hiccup awoke some time later, troubled but rested nonetheless. He stretched from his position on the floor, careful not to irritate the healing gash in his side. He pushed the blanket off of his torso and peered down at the layer of scabs, happy that he hadn't torn anything open.

He sat up and immediately started preparing for their departure, folding the sleeping blanket into the smallest bundle he could manage. Slowly, he made his rounds around the mountain cavern, collecting and packing all of his things that laid strewn out on the rocks by the pools.

He glanced over sidelong at the three dozing dragons, eyeing them closely. It was obvious that the darkest of them was feigning sleep, and Hiccup made a point of staring at him as if to prove that he wasn't fooled. Toothless grunted, caught in the act, and lifted one lazy eyelid, glaring silently.

Hiccup threw him an incredulous glance before continuing where he had left off, gathering his freshly washed clothes from their perches. He slowly started pulling the lighter layers of his clothes onto his body, enjoying the warmth of the fabric as it brushed against his skin. The wool rubbed uncomfortably on his scar though, and Hiccup ended up wrapping his torso with some of the linen bandages from his pack that he had been hoping to save. He didn't know why he felt he needed to conserve them, but he had a feeling that he'd need all that he could get in the end.

The remorseful feelings that had plagued him the night before had turned into a brooding sense of dread. He'd been feeling a buzz in the back of his mind since he had awoken, and the crowded sensation in his mind was worrying him more than he would have liked to admit. He strode over to bags attached to Toothless' saddle and rested his hand on the dragon's obsidian brow.

"Do you feel it?"

The look in the Night Fury's eyes spoke volumes, and he was forced to swallow uneasily as the realization set in. He thought back to the tidal wave, of the rasping laugh that had nearly sucked the breath from their lungs. The hum almost seemed like an echo or a reverberation of sorts, teeming like an agitated hornet against the back of his skull.

Hiccup picked up the largest component of the saddle and placed it on top of the dragon's back, his fingers working on autopilot as he tightened the straps and fasteners piece by piece. Toothless rolled onto his side when he was supposed to without making much of a fuss, too distracted by the drone in the back of his brain. Over and over again, the image of the leviathan that the dragoness had described reappeared, each time more frightening then the last. What if, by continuing on their quest, they flew right into the serpent's trap?

Not for the first time, Toothless wished that he could communicate with his hatchling the way the dragoness could communicate with her adopted young. The human understood very little of his language, not that there was much to learn in the first place. It was a dialect of mannerisms first and foremost; the noises they formed within their throats only connected their ideas like a branch between two trees.

Toothless stood up on all fours and waited as the last component, the saddle bags, were strapped to the leather above his ribs. Hiccup worked with an unnerving precision as Toothless watched him from the corner of his eye; they were both undoubtedly lost in their respective thoughts, but the expression of an old, weathered man on the young boy's face was disquieting and downright alarming.

Hiccup took one last glance around the cavern, scanning the place for anything he might have missed. The cave looked almost exactly how he left it, except for the two still slumbering dragons curled up near the source of the mountain's heat. He glanced quickly at Toothless before following the direction of the Night Fury's gaze; his draconic green eyes stared towards the white dragoness and her young, reflecting the sadness the dragon felt upon leaving his own kind again. Was he really cut out for this nomadic lifestyle?

Once again, Toothless was regrettably reminded of his age.

He sighed and hoped that, despite his untimely middle-aged body, he could still outfly a sea serpent some thousand furlongs in length. He snorted and shook his head; who was he kidding?

Hiccup started off towards the tunnels that lead to the outside, pulling on the final outer layers of his winter clothing. He waited at the edge of the cavern as Toothless trudged behind him, almost unwilling to leave without at least displaying some type of gratitude to the female that had allowed them to take refuge in her territory.

As he stepped towards her, the dragoness revealed one of her blue eyes, startling Toothless from his approach. She pulled herself to her feet in a movement that seemed to defy the very laws of gravity, raising herself to her full height. The white dragon towered over the Night Fury as she settled onto her hind paws, eyes trained towards him.

Hiccup watched as they exchanged words, or what he thought was the dragon equivalent of words, and wondered briefly as to what they were saying. Their body language spoke of a terse conversation subject, and Hiccup had a sneaking suspicion as to what they were talking about.

Toothless thanked her one last time and began his departure, walking over to his hatchling at the mouth of the cave. He turned around at the last moment before leaving entirely, locking his gaze with hers one last time. She lowered her stance and allowed her eyes to reflect the turmoil that she felt churning deep within her.

'_He'll never stop hunting you.'_

Toothless breathed in sharply, the words of the ancient language seeping deep into his skin. He dipped his head briefly, a final gesture of indebted thanks, and finally departed.

It wasn't long before the bite of winter began to sting their cheeks, and within minutes they were out in the harsh winds of the Groenland bluffs, no longer shielded from the outside world. Hiccup steeled himself as he leapt onto Toothless' back and fastened the mechanisms of his prosthetic to the saddle, already wishing he were still inside the cavern. He inwardly scolded himself and reminded himself about why he was out here in the first place.

He was on a quest.

A quest to find his mother, his independence, and himself.

Hiccup pulled his handmade sword from his pack and fastened it to the belt on his waist, patting it with a sense of determination welling in his heart. He'd find Jormundgadr too and kill him if he got the chance.

If only he knew.

* * *

Astrid pulled up on the handles of the leather saddle, narrowly dodging another droplet of hail the size of a war hammer. She wiped the frost from her goggles as she continued to keep her eyes trained above them, covering her dragon's weaknesses as they tried to make their way above the clouds.

The barrage was getting heavier and heavier the higher they flew, and it was getting harder for Astrid to see them fast enough in order to pull them out of harm's way. One hit from one of those hail balls and Astrid was sure that it would be then end of both of them.

She jerked to the left and the Nadder barrel rolled out of the way, only to have to double back the other way. The dragon kept them on a steady incline and she could almost feel the pressure of the storm clouds on her snout, but so long as they were beneath the fray they were still in danger.

Finally they burst through the barrier, fighting against the turbulence that threatened to knock Astrid right off the saddle. She gripped onto the handles with enough force to break a grown man's arm and gritted her teeth in determination. They shook violently against the opposing winds within the raging squall, rattling them so hard that they both lost the ability to think. Her instincts took hold at that moment, and there was nothing else to do but press her body down as close as she could and hold on.

They shot through the final boundary like an arrow and slumped together in exhaustion, gasping and panting for breath. The storms had been a consistent obstacle in their westward passage across the ocean; it was almost as if the gods themselves wished for her to turn back. Something nagged at the back of her mind every time she even remotely considered high tailing it back to Berk, an old riddle her great aunt had often asked of her all those years ago.

She was beginning to think that the riddle wasn't much of a riddle at all.

Fighting to catch her breath as they soared above the churning clouds, Astrid wondered if her great aunt had known all along that she would eventually leave Berk. Had she known what the significance of her voyage was? Had she kept it from her all her life only for the connotation to reveal itself?

"_Two paths, one never taken,_

_On the road that never was,_

_Should you take to the horizons,_

_Where beginning meets the end._

_Where is where?"_

The two final lines still didn't make sense, but she was starting to see where the first three lines were going. The road that never was must have been referring to the skies she was flying now and the paths, well, she figured that Hiccup had taken the first path and that she was taking the second, pursuing one.

It made sense, she supposed, in that roundabout soothsaying way. Gothi had known all along what was going to happen, but why was it so important that the gods offered her a prophecy? She knew for a fact that predictions into a child's future were something that all newborns went through after their first nine days of life. But usually they were mundane things like, "your child will be a gifted warrior" or "the ocean flows through his veins." Her parents had told her that Gothi predicted that she would become a valiant shield maiden, but had there been something more? Something that they hadn't told her?

She shook her head as if to try and rid herself of her thoughts. Her sister was predicted to be the next seer, not her. She was a shield maiden, and nothing more. This kind of thinking was more suited for the mystical minded, not someone who had been trained in battle since the time she could walk to wield an axe. She pushed her growing bangs out of her eyes, wishing back for simpler times.

Times before the days of peace. Times in the relative comfort of war.

Times when love had been nothing but a long suppressed emotion.

She breathed out forcefully, confused and no less close to the truth then when she started. If thinking wasn't what she was born to do, then why did she spend so much time doing it?

She'd been flying for well over a week and a half, and the only sign that she had found that she was going in the right direction was the half hidden signs of a camp on one of the larger islands they had crossed over. He hadn't done a very good job of trying to hide the ashes of the fire he had made, and she probably would have scolded him for it had she not been so grateful. Finally, she had proof that she was headed in the right direction, and for that she was glad.

But after that, she had barely seen anything. Before the hail storm set in some hours ago, they hadn't spotted an island in over a day, which worried her. They would have veered off course to find land at some point, and Astrid honestly wasn't sure what direction she was flying anymore.

She glanced upwards but it was still too light out to make out any sort of stars. The sun was hidden behind a thick layer of tall clouds, which made it nearly impossible to try and pinpoint its location in the sky. If she had to try and guess what time it was, she would have said late afternoon.

Her stomach rumbled loudly and she silently cursed at herself. In her sufferance of near starvation, she had all but become used to the hollow pit of hunger in her stomach. She would have given anything to be able to look at her reflection and see the damage that had been done to her face and body, but she had regrettably left her mother's polished glass at home.

She touched her cheeks with her gloves and found that her cheekbones were quite easy to find, even through the thick pelt covering her hands. She sighed, hoping that she didn't look too much like a walking skeleton; the last thing she wanted was for Hiccup to accuse her of being too skinny when that was so clearly her job.

That is, if she ever found him.

They soared for another few hours over the tumultuous clouds, churning like a cyclone beneath them. The winds were calm up there, but she pitied anything that was caught in the lethal chaos below. The storm had literally come out of the blue, and from what she could see in the distance, it wasn't letting up anytime soon.

More hours passed, and darkness soon befell the world around her. The clouds began to clear above them, the twilight fading in and out in between wisps of cirrus clouds. Patches of the ocean could be seen below her as well but she didn't dare lead the dragon lower in fear that another hail storm would arrive out of nowhere again.

Instead, dragon and rider soared farther skyward, taking advantage of the clearing night to get a better look at their surroundings. Astrid studied the stars and found that they were miraculously still heading westward, if not a little southward as well. She cleared her goggles of fog and set her sights on the horizon again, searching the skyline for anything, something.

She narrowed her eyes, pressing as far forward as she could in the saddle. She couldn't be sure, but something seemed out of place on the brink of the horizon, a small speck where there should have only been sky. She couldn't even be sure if it was moving, but it was worth taking a closer look.

"Do you see that?"

The Nadder took a moment to scan the vista before finally settling its gaze on the same dark blur in the distance, so far away that it was nearly impossible to determine what it was. The Nadder pitched on a upwards incline and started to beat her wings faster, hoping to slowly but surely catch up with whatever creature lurked ahead of them.

It was pitch dark over the seas, which meant that dawn was nearly close at hand. She had lost sight of the dot some time ago, but they had been making good time in sneaking up on the mysterious creature flying the skies. Astrid tried to quell the hope that kept trying to swell in her stomach; they had encountered dragons before on their chase across the seas, but they had always been going southward and were usually much lighter in colour. But if they had finally caught up to him…

Astrid forced herself to keep calm, and to keep her breathing silent. Sneaking up on the unknown was dangerous business, especially when said prey was decidedly out of sight.

And that's when she heard it; it was faint, but it was there nonetheless. The steady pounding of wings against the tranquil atmosphere, slow and powerful on the quiet undercurrent. There was no wind to heed their passage; dawn was beginning to stain the horizon.

The Nadder instinctively shortened her wingspan, allowing her to take smaller, less noisy beats. Astrid pressed her body as close to the dragon as she could, praying that whatever they were following wasn't hostile. She didn't want to have travelled all this time just to be eaten by a Whispering Death.

They followed in silence for almost another hour, stifled by the tension of flying undetected. She was having a hard time trying to point out the source of the wing beats through the thick pre-dawn air; they were flying through a layer of diaphanous clouds and although the faint rays of the rising sun were beginning to return the colour to the world, Astrid still couldn't find the creature they were tailing. In a burst of paranoia, she quickly scanned the space around her, but found nothing.

Minutes passed, and she could finally begin to see the light of the sun begin to dye the clouds around her orange and yellow. She continued her vigilant scan, keeping her ears trained on the rhythmic buffeting of wings coming from somewhere around them. She peered down over the shoulder of her Nadder and tried to make out some sort of shape beneath the clouds.

_No._

Sweet Odin.

Astrid slid the goggles up onto her forehead and tried again, unable to believe what she was seeing. She knew that silhouette anywhere.

There was no mistaking the shadow, perfectly camouflaged in the darkness but exposed in the rising sun. There was no mistaking the tuft of reddish hair that reflected the dawn's brilliant rays, a beacon against the sunrise.

She was right above him.

As her stomach tied itself in knots, she remembered one of his teachings that had resounded with her the most.

_"Sometimes we could save ourselves a lot of trouble if we just took the time to look up."_

* * *

Thank you to the lovely Sir Nick, who always does a wonderful job in puffing up my ego before I post a chapiter!

Please leave me a review and tell me what you think! I always look forward to hearing what you have to say, and I wonder if any of you are catching on to the ridiculous amounts of foreshadowing and retrospection I threw in! Let me know your theories; I'm dying to hear them!

Brontë_  
_


	16. Verðandi and the End of All Things X

Well, here we are. Can you believe it's been twelve chapters since Hiccup and Astrid have actually spoken? I can't believe it either!

I hope that I have worked up to your expectations. As I've mentioned before, I feel that dialogue is my weakest point in writing, and in this chapter I strove to really try my best. I'm feeling very insecure about it, and I hope that you will all be honest with me, should you choose to review, concerning this chapter and how you felt about it. Your critiques will only help me become a better writer and improve the conclusion of this story (and arc two) in the long run.

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc 2: Verðandi and the End of All Things**_

_Chapter X_

* * *

It was approximately sometime around the middle of the day, but for all Astrid cared it could have been Ragnorok. She and her dragon were soaring some hundreds of furlongs above the Night Fury and his infuriating rider, and for some absolutely ludicrous reason, the two of them still hadn't even bothered to notice them. They were right above them for goodness sakes! Were they idiots?

The more she flew above them, utterly ignored and undetected by her prey, the more vexed she became. He tried to teach others about the stepping stones of flying, but he didn't even think to follow his own stupid advice? They could have attacked them from above hours ago! But Astrid knew better than that; she loved her Nadder very dearly, but when it came to the chase if Hiccup decided to flee, Toothless would most likely leave them both in the dust.

They would have to wait until Hiccup and Toothless touched down somewhere to rest before they sprung their attack. That was the only way she could be at an advantage against them, so long as Toothless' tack was off of his body. But even then, with the time it took Hiccup to strap his prosthetic leg into the stirrup, Astrid figured she could stop him from taking off in time. And if he did manage to get away? Well, he'd have to stop again eventually.

The air was becoming harder and harder to breathe as they continued to fly at such a high altitude, but Astrid knew that the light headedness was worth the trouble. As much as she wanted Hiccup to notice her, he was a flight risk and honestly, she was sick and tired of chasing his sorry tail-end across the Western ocean.

Well, he would be sorry once she got a hold of him and unleashed her wrath.

Quite suddenly, the dragon riding duo moved out from beneath her, vanishing into the ocean mist as if they had been eavesdropping on her silent musings. Astrid sighed dramatically and took a deep, taxing breath.

Lovely.

Toothless, who was nothing but a blurry speck in the clouds beneath them, banked sharply to the left and Astrid knew that they had finally been caught in their little game of hide and seek. She urged her Nadder to pick up the pace and the dragon happily complied, excited to finally put her pent up energy to good use.

They maintained their high altitude above the heavy clouds, knowing that the air friction only got more difficult to fly through, the closer they flew to the sea. The lack of visibility was a con, but with Toothless and Hiccup down there and the two of them high above, she knew that they would be more or less evenly matched.

She tightened the strap of leather around her left hand with her teeth, conscious that she would be forced to perform some back breaking acrobatics in order to capture the runaway boy very soon. Being tossed upside down certainly wasn't her favourite thing to do in the world, but this wasn't just an everyday situation. She was going to stop those two good for nothing vagabonds, and she was going to do it _her way_.

The clouds dispersed before her, falling away like a spider's silk, and she could clearly see them far below as they weaved back and forth amidst the choppy waves. It seemed that Hiccup and Toothless had all but lost their common sense in their panic to lose them; the thick, humid air of the sea would only serve to hinder their futile escape. Astrid allowed her dragon to take full control of their pursuit course and the dragon started to slowly descend, mindful that so long as the pair was slowed down by the seas, they were at a major advantage to catch up.

As the Deadly Nadder began to slowly close the gap between Hiccup and herself, Astrid couldn't help but think about how utterly anti-climactic this was all turning out to be. Why was he making it so easy for her to catch up? This was pathetic, almost like child's play—

The Nadder jerked violently to the left, barrel rolling out of the way just as a ball of cyan fire whisked past their bodies. Astrid glared daggers at the perpetrators down below them, vowing to plough both of their faces in with her fists for _daring_ to fire at her. They had just travelled halfway across the world for them, only to be nearly singed in their seats?

Ooh. They would _so_ pay for that.

"Go on," she whispered to her dragon, smirking in a rather frightening way, "Let's show them what we got."

The Nadder cawed elatedly and twisted her body sideways, nosing into a downwards spiralling dive so steep that it felt as if Astrid had left her stomach somewhere far above her. She held on for dear life as they broke barrier after barrier of dense, freezing clouds, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to pull up and scare the daylights out of their prey.

Her dragon screeched a fearsome battle cry and released a burst of fire that, as they levelled with Hiccup and Toothless, barely missed singing the hair off of Hiccup's head. Toothless squawked at the sudden attack and began moving evasively, but Astrid was having none of it. She led her Nadder upwards and unceremoniously dropped down beside them, shocking both rider and dragon until they almost fell into the sea.

"You idiots!" she shrieked, waving her free hand in a hysterical rage, "Are you _trying_ to kill us?"

Hiccup and Toothless remained frozen like stone statues, their jaws agape with shock. Astrid took this as the perfect excuse to continue her lecture.

"Since when is it okay to fire at us? Didn't you think to maybe, oh I don't know, _look_ before you try and shoot us out of the sky!"

If anything, their jaws only served to drop further.

"You stupid, pathetic trolls! How _dare_ you just run off on some stupid adventure all by yourselves without telling anybody? When we land, I swear I am going to string you up by your toenails and wail on you until Ragnorok!"

Hiccup closed his mouth, then opened it again, gaping like a fish.

"What?"

Slowly, like a volcano nearing its imminent eruption, Astrid began to feel an absolute fury start to well up inside her. She clenched her hands into fists and didn't bother trying to hide the expression of all-consuming rage on her features, her skin as hot as lava.

"What? What? I chased you all around this gods-forsaken world and all you have to say to me is WHAT?"

"…I…uh…"

"Just shut up, shut up! Land on the next island or I will _personally_ skin both of you and turn you into clothes!"

Sharing a look of utter horror, both dragon and rider nodded their heads in fear of their lives. Toothless may have been a Night Fury, but his hatchling's mate was the most fearsome creature he had ever encountered; he did not put her gruesome vows of murder past her.

She graced them both with a sneer that could give grown men nightmares before ascending back up into the clouds, leaving Hiccup and Toothless both alone again. Hiccup didn't have to say anything though; his facial expression was proof enough of how he was feeling about the sudden turn of events.

They were _screwed_.

* * *

The sun was just beginning its descent in the sky when an island came into view along the horizon. Toothless began to drop away from the tailwind they had been riding for some time with a flick of his wings, keeping one eye trained on the island and the other high above them in the sky.

Hiccup, despite his efforts, still hadn't come to terms with what had happened. In all of his wildest dreams (and nightmares), he couldn't figure out what Astrid was doing following him, let alone why. Was she crazy?

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hiccup secretly revelled in the knowledge that she was crazy enough to go after him. The rest of his brain registered a daunting sagacity of common sense, in which he knew that he was about to get his arse handed to him by the woman of his dreams.

He was kind of looking forward to it.

Toothless landed with a thud, jarring him out of his sullied thoughts. He hoped that the chilly winter air would be a good enough excuse to explain the flush of red that painted his cheeks as he tried to shake her glorious image from his head. He then unattached himself from the saddle and hopped down, plonking his pack down in a large, concave grotto of rock that Toothless had settled beside. It was devoid of heavy snow for the most part, making it a decent place to rest for the night.

Or rest in peace. Where Astrid was concerned, he could never be sure.

He sighed and sat down on a fallen branch, crossing his legs awkwardly. His stump was killing him, and he wanted to take his prosthetic off desperately, but the last thing he wanted to do was show any kind of weakness, especially since she would most likely use that to her advantage. He was still healing and was as weak as anything; he didn't think he'd be able run from her very far before collapsing in exhaustion or from the pain in his leg, whichever came first.

He settled his elbow in the crook of his knee, resting his chin in the palm of his hand, and waited.

And waited.

The indentation in the rock was facing west and when Astrid finally began striding towards him, she looked to be completely enrobed by the setting sun. Nothing but her silhouette could be seen, and even though she was covered in layers upon layers of coats, she still managed to look amazing.

The way her hips swayed practically sent him into a sensory meltdown, and he had to shift uncomfortably on the branch just to get a hold of himself. She stopped a few metres away from him and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes absolutely carnal.

"You're a prick, you know that?"

Astrid stepped closer, eyeing the boy closely. He looked horrible, if she was going to be honest with herself. His hair was bedraggled and his skin was paler than she had ever seen it. He was growing patches of hair of his chin, which would have been a redeeming quality if they weren't so sporadic and filthy. Astrid had to swallow down the urge to shove him in some water and make him take a bath.

"Astrid…ah, Astrid I—"

"For once in your life Hiccup, can you please try and form a coherent sentence without stuttering?"

Gods, she said his _name_. Hiccup swallowed anxiously, tugging at the collar of his outermost coat.

"S-sorry. I mean, sorry."

She glared at him, her eyes narrowed. He shifted again, wishing that she would stop staring at him like he was naked.

"Now answer me. Why did you leave?"

Hiccup looked up with a start, his expression betraying his surprise. Out of all the things that he had expected her to say to him, this hadn't been the one that he wanted to answer.

"What-what do you mean?"

She harrumphed, folding her arms even tighter against her chest, "You said in your letter that you wanted to explore Midgard, but I'm not that stupid. Why did you really leave?"

"I…I…I just wanted to travel?" he squeaked, ready for the world to swallow him up. He had expected to be beaten to a pulp, not interrogated.

"That's crap and you know it," she ground out, dropping her own pack onto the ground beside her. She opened the clasp and began going through the contents of the basket, finally latching onto what she needed. She pulled out a notebook, its cover looking categorically worse for wear, and flipped to the first few pages.

"Where did you find that?" Hiccup breathed, his eyes gaping wide. His heart started beating fervently as she leafed through the pages of his personal sketchbook.

"I was determined to find out where you had gone," Upon seeing the look of horror painted in his eyes, Astrid sought to placate him, "Just be lucky that I was the only one who found them."

"My father…?"

"No, and neither did Gobber. Your secret is safe with me."

"But...but..."

"Hiccup. Honestly," she took a menacing step forwards, her frightening glare inspiring him to shut his mouth before she moved any closer, "Did you really think that I was going to let you go? Without me investigating? You should know me better than that."

She sighed quietly, raking her fingers through her bangs, "When you left, you father, Gobber and I - yes, your father, believe it or not - went on a rampage trying to find out where you went. Thor knows if your father figured it out, but Gobber and I ended up tracking what you had done during the days before you left, including the people that you talked to."

"And then, you had the nerve to steal a map from my great Aunt! Did you think that she wouldn't notice? That map was priceless! And now you've probably gotten it ripped to shreds or something..."

Astrid sighed and uncrossed her arms, weary as the flood of anger began to wash away with the tide. She stared at the boy, squirming and looking incredibly uncomfortable beneath the heat of her gaze, and felt a sense of relief wash over her.

He was grubby and too skinny for what he should be, but at least he was alive.

She continued to stand, wringing her hands together as he desperately tried to avoid eye contact. He was just as awkward as he had always been, and by the gods, it was beginning to get on her nerves.

"How did you find me?" he asked finally, his voice almost inaudible against the gentle trill of the wind.

"Auntie told me what direction you were going in and I flew on a blind hope that I would eventually run into you. That, and you didn't even bothering covering the tracks you left on one of the islands we both ended up landing on."

"Yeah well," he replied, his trademark sarcasm finally coming back to him, "I wasn't exactly expecting anyone to stalk me across the ocean."

Astrid smirked, crossing her arms again and jutting her hip to one side in defiance, "Well, you obviously thought wrong. You didn't exactly make it difficult, you know."

"You always were the best tracker out of all of us," he muttered, unconsciously reaching down and massaging the bulb of muscle above his amputation. Astrid fought the urge to ask him about it, silently reminding herself that his handicap was part of the reason he left in the first place.

"And you always were the better teacher," she left her arms drop to her sides one more and then finally closed the gap between them, sitting down on the same branch a few feet away, "It was a Hel of a journey; I thought I was done in for a few times."

Hiccup breathed out quietly and gave up on faking out altogether, carefully rubbing the skin all around his amputation. The muscles of his calf - or what used to be his calf - were screaming with exhaustion, but it was just too cold to take off the prosthetic and see if he had done any damage to the healing skin. That, and Astrid was staring at him. Again.

"Let's not mince words Hiccup," she said quietly, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over them, "I'm going to ask you again; why are you out here, on your own, flying towards Thor knows where for no apparent reason?"

Hiccup kept his face tactfully turned away from her, afraid of her uncanny abilities to read him like a scroll, "It was..." he sighed, running his gloved fingers through his hair, "It was only a matter of time. Soon, people were going to see past the hero and everyone would see me for who I really am; killing a dragon didn't change me," he stared down at his prosthetic, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, "I'm still me. Still Hiccup the awkward, Hiccup the nuisance. I just happen to ride a dragon now."

Astrid curbed herself from saying anything, knowing that it would fall on deaf ears. He'd been stewing over this for a long time, she knew, and it was going to take more than words to get him to see that he wasn't an invalid like he seemed to think he was.

She let him continue, "The only difference now is that people listen to me, but I know that someday it'll all go away. People won't need me anymore for dragon advice, and I'll become just as obsolete as I was before, but worse. Because now I know what it's like to fit in, to have friends, be respected. I mean, I'm expected to be the next chief! How am I supposed to pull that off?" Hiccup sighed, a darkness Astrid didn't like folding over his features, "Not that it matters. I'm gone now, and I'm not going back."

"You're not...what?"

"I'm not going back, not after experiencing this," he motioned with his hands all around him, and Astrid couldn't stop herself from raising an eyebrow in incredulity, "This is freedom. Zero responsibility, zero to deal with. All that matters is survival, and I think I've been doing a pretty good job of that so far."

Astrid pursed her lips, feeling her anger begin to simmer again, "So let me get this straight. You'd give up your family, your friends, your birthright...for this? For living alone for the rest of your life, providing that live long enough on your own, out in the wild. Are you insane?"

"You don't understand-"

"Of course I understand! I just spent the last weeks flying after you, alone, on my own, zero responsibility. And it sucks. You know why? Because I know that I left behind a family that loves me and friends that care about me!"

"My family doesn't care about me-"

"Doesn't care about you? Are you nuts?" Astrid raked her fingers through her messy hair, suppressing the urge to strangle him, "Your father was inconsolable after you left! He could barely function during the week before I left, and I doubt he's any better now. The whole village is up in arms over the loss of their hero, the saviour of their village. Gods Hiccup, you're denser than lead!"

"Vikings are stubborn, but now that you've proven yourself in their eyes, their opinion won't ever change! You're. A. Hero. Can't you understand that? Bum leg or not, you're still the symbol of what our island has become; a force to be reckoned with! We have dragons. Why? Because of you!" Astrid just wanted to slap the dumb look right off of his annoyingly handsome face, "We want you back Hiccup, we need you back. I need you back."

Astrid could see that her words hadn't sunk in entirely, and she knew it was time to fall back to the old fail safe. Closing the gap between them in the blink of an eye, Astrid walloped him across the face with her open palm, knocking him arse over tea kettle into the snow. He cried out in surprise and Astrid followed him down onto the ground, sliding across the snow on her knees. She crawled up on top of him, effectively pinning him to the ground by slamming her hands onto his shoulders and jamming his arms against his ribs.

Oh yes.

She had his attention.

He struggled against her for all of three seconds before his eyes bulged out of his head and his jaw dropped as he realised what kind of position he had tumbled into. His heart started pumping tenfold as Astrid leant closer, her gaze menacing.

"I don't care about your leg. Nobody sees you any differently because of it. You just finished telling me that saving the entire Viking civilization didn't change who you are; so what makes losing your leg any different than that?"

"I know there's more to this story than you're telling me, and I'm willing to wait as long as you need to wait for you to tell me. But I'm not listening to anymore of your insecure 'I'm handicapped' crap. And don't think that you're going to get out of this; I am going to follow you for the rest of this ridiculous journey, and you're going to deal with it. Got it?"

Hiccup gulped, unable to do much else considering his situation, and nodded.

"Good. Now listen closely: if I suspect any funny business, like if you try and lose me or something, I will hunt you down. I will find you, and I will not be nearly as merciful as I have been this time around. Understand?"

"Y-yes!" he squeaked, painfully aware of her thighs as they squeezed his arms against his body.

"Great. Now," Astrid pushed herself off of Hiccup and turned around, leaving him prone in the snow behind her, and walked over to her Nadder. The blue dragon was chattering quietly with the Night Fury against the most sheltered part of the indentation in the rock, and they didn't stop their lightning fast exchange even as Astrid dug her sleeping provisions from the saddlebags on the Nadder's back. She glanced back as inconspicuously as possible, watching from the corner of her eye as Hiccup pulled himself to his feet and brushed himself off, looking strangely at odds with himself. She frowned and tried to stay positive, hoping that at least some of what she had said to him made it through his thick skull.

She laid her sleeping sack down beside her Nadder, happy that the dragon had taken the initiative to melt all of the snow around her. She slid her boots off of her feet and placed them inside her pack, turning a blind eye as Hiccup approached his own dragon and began preparing for the night. She crawled into the sack and wrapped the pelts as close to her body as possible, hating the way that the air seemed to only get colder and colder as night fell. She buried her face in the furs and closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would take her sooner rather than later.

"Astrid?"

She grumbled into her blankets and opened her eyes, staring up at the cloudy skies, "Yes?"

"Why…why did you come after me?"

Astrid went to open her lips to reply but only ended up with a mouthful of fur. She coughed and rolled over onto her stomach, glaring over at Hiccup who had settled down beside his own dragon. He was sitting up in his sack and trying very hard to avoid her stare.

"I already told you."

"You told me that you came to hunt me down, but that's it."

"Well, you wouldn't answer my entire question, so what makes you think that I'll answer all of yours?"

He sighed and scooted down into his blankets, gazing up at the sky, "Touché."

Astrid harrumphed and rolled back onto her side, hoping the conversation was over. She was incredibly cold, not to mention starving, but she honestly didn't have the energy to eat, let alone move.

"Will you tell me why in exchange for me telling you something?"

Astrid scrunched her eyebrows together in frustration, "I suppose. Will you shut up and let me sleep after?"

"Of course."

Astrid glared up at the sky, deliberating whether or not to actually tell him the truth. After a moment, she chose the former, "I followed you for a few reasons. One of which was because I thought you were an idiot."

Hiccup snorted from his bed a few feet away, and Astrid couldn't help but let her own little smirk race across her lips, "I was worried you'd end up killing yourself somehow, since you seem to attract danger like hornets to honey. The last thing I needed was your death on my conscious."

"You were worried about me?"

"Of course I was–" she cut herself before she divulged anything further, taking a deep breath, "Yes. You happen to be a very important asset to everyone."

Hiccup wasn't buying it, "That's all?"

"Yes, that's all!" she snapped, pulling the furs up above her cheeks to cover the blush, "I followed you because you're important and I didn't want you to die."

"So, for no other reason then?"

"Hiccup!" she shrieked, and when Hiccup laughed she knew she had been caught. She buried herself deeper into the warm pelts and tried to tune out the embarrassment that was plaguing her, "Fine. I followed you because I lo…like you. A lot. There, you win. Happy?"

"Yes," Astrid could practically hear the smile in his voice, "It's nice to see you again Astrid…I missed you."

The young warrior grumbled into her blankets, hating the way his confession left her breathless, "Now tell me why you left."

The smile dissolved from his features as Hiccup remembered the other side of their bargain. He closed her eyes and rolled over, dreading her reaction to what he was about to say, "I wanted to find the end of the world. I know, I know it sounds stupid. But I just thought…you know, maybe there would be a way to…"

"A way to what?"

He didn't answer for the longest time; he took a few deep breaths and hung his head, silently condemning himself as he finally voiced the truth.

"A way to see my mother."

Astrid took a sharp intake of breath, the story finally piecing itself together before her very eyes. She rolled over and stared at him as if she were looking at him for the first time, eyes wide and puzzled as she soaked in his profile, illuminated only by the muffled light of the moon.

Without really having any control over her body, Astrid pulled her boots out of her bag and shrugged out of her sack, shoving her feet inside the freezing rawhide. She dragged her sleeping bag over to his and placed it down beside him, kicking her boots off once more and crawling back in.

"I guessed as much," she divulged quietly, still gazing at his profile. He continued to stare up at the sky, a frown gracing his features, and Astrid felt her heart reach out to him. Once again, losing power over every ounce of self-discipline she had ever entertained, the young warrior placed her gloved hand on his arm and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"Goodnight Hiccup," she whispered, watching as his frown slowly dissolved into a small, but potent, smile.

"Goodnight."

* * *

So...what did you think? Did I do their reunion justice? Was the dialogue good enough? Please leave me a review and let me know...I haven't received any feedback from my friends nor from my beta concerning the content of the story and I'm really quite concerned...

:S

Brontë


	17. Verðandi and the End of All Things XI

Well, here it is! The final chapter of Arc Two! Things just got real...

Thank you to all of my amazing reviewers, especially the ones that have followed me this far and who review every chapter so faithfully. You guys keep me going, and for that, I can't thank you enough!

If anyone can guess the reference I make, I will be flabbergasted. I'll give you a hint: it's from a hit TV show and a book series!

Anyway, without further ado, enjoy the last chapter of this arc!

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc 2: Verðandi and the End of All Things**_

_Chapter XI_

* * *

Hiccup awoke the next morning more or less refreshed, despite the drone of a humming sound buzzing like a hornet at the back of his head. He'd been hearing it on and off ever since his run in with the tidal wave, and it was honestly beginning to get on his already frazzled nerves. He turned his head to the side and his irritability all but disappeared though, as he caught a glimpse of a tuft of golden hair shining brightly in the sun.

_Astrid._

Coming clean the night before had actually felt...okay. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, in that he could finally confide in someone, particularly someone who could answer him back. He knew for a fact that Toothless could comprehend his language perfectly, and understand everything he said, but finally having the opportunity to engage in a human conversation had been surprisingly pleasant.

He didn't think he had missed being human that much.

But apparently, he did.

He sighed softly and stretched his back, his aching muscles rebelling against the strain. The sting from the wound on his ribs wasn't as intense as it had been when he had fallen asleep, and for that he was thankful; he had enough to worry about already, especially now that he wasn't looking out for just Toothless and himself anymore.

Now he had _responsibility_.

Ugh.

Hiccup turned his head in the opposite direction and locked eyes with the ebony dragon lying beside him, the Fury silently conveying the same thing. Hiccup, although still naive to the true nature of the situation, was more worried about their survival now that there were four of them to take care of. Toothless, on the other hand, realized exactly what having Astrid and her Nadder as tag-a-longs really meant.

Things were going to become deadly serious, very soon.

Hiccup raked his fingers through his messy hair, wishing that he could find his comb. He figured he had lost it sometime during their rest in the heart of the mountain a few days ago, but he had been so tired then that he couldn't be sure, especially since their entire 'vacation' was a bit of a blur thanks to the blood loss. He sighed and turned his head towards Astrid once again, shifting slightly so that he could catch a glimpse of her face amidst the piles of fur heaped on top of her.

Gods, when had she gotten so skinny?

Her complexion had become ashen and sallow, and her was skin taut against her protruding cheekbones. She looked almost frail in a sense, and it both shocked and disheartened him to think of her that way. For his entire life, she had been a source of strength, of brawniness and brute force. Now she just looked sick, as if she had starved herself in her attempt to catch up with him.

His stomach turned at the thought.

Something ugly reared inside of him as his concern began to ebb away, transposing into frustration. Why had she risked her health, and her life, for him? He ran his hand over his face and let a breath of chagrin pass his lips; even though he was hundreds of miles away from Berk, he was still inadvertently causing harm to others.

He bunched his fingers into fists and tried without success to suppress his emotions. For so long he had done so, compressing them as tightly as he could to the back of his mind where they would hopefully be forgotten. But after being so unfettered for so long, not to mention the monotonous vibration currently residing in the spot he had reserved solely for his repressed feeling, he just couldn't force himself to simmer down and shut up about it.

He threw his covers off of his body and pulled himself into a sitting position, ignoring the sudden sting in his side. His clenched fists and sudden fury were enough to distract him from the lesion on his ribs for the moment, and although he wouldn't be able to ignore the reopened wound for very long, he didn't give it enough thought to notice. He continued to his feet and bent down to roll up his sleeping bag, cringing but otherwise still furious.

He was tempted to say something as she stirred from her slumber, but he bit down the reckless urge. Instead, he stomped over towards his basket and shoved the bundle of furs unceremoniously inside, forgetting all about his pristine, organizational folding technique. He ignored the look of confusion his dragon was throwing at him and continued to busy himself with the stubborn sack of furs, cursing under his breath as he used his foot to pack them in.

"Hiccup?"

"What?" he grumbled back, still unwilling to look at her. She was sick and skinny, and it was all because of him.

"Are you okay?"

"I should be asking you that."

He heard her sigh from behind him, but he paid no heed to it.

"What got you into such a bad mood?" Astrid asked, drawing up beside him. She stared pointedly as he maintained his frustrated expression, arms folded tightly across his chest.

"Nothing," he bit back petulantly, letting his instincts guide him further into a flurry of emotions he wasn't very familiar with.

"Well obviously something's up," Astrid persisted, sliding in front of him as he continued to turn his body away. Hiccup frowned and glared just passed her shoulder, towards the Western part of the island.

"Just go get ready," he ground out, his voice still gravely from disuse during the night, "And get something to eat. You look hungry."

Astrid narrowed her eyes and slowly backed away, trying to make sense of Hiccup's sudden change in behaviour from the night before. She kept one eye on his hunched form as she started digging through her pack, snatching a bundle of dried fruits and cheeses from the very bottom. Her stomach growled ravenously as she unwrapped the cheese from its cloth, the scent of the fermented foodstuff making her mouth water.

She ripped a hunk off of the cheese and stuffed in her mouth, her eyes practically watering as the flavour assaulted her tongue. She couldn't even remember the last time she had eaten, but by the gods, did it ever feel good to fill the empty hole in her stomach. She'd become more or less used to the feeling of raw hunger clawing at her from within, and it relieved her greatly that there was no need for haste any longer. She sunk back into her sleeping sack as she started shovelling the dried fruits passed her lips, chewing them in ecstasy.

Hiccup glanced at her from the corner of his eye, hating the way his own stomach was rumbling. Of course he was hungry - he hadn't exactly been living the life of luxury. It bothered him that she was enjoying her food so much; she was practically crying as she continued to cram handfuls of dried crab apples into her mouth, barely chewing them as she stifled a moan. But why was he so upset? Wasn't the reason he was mad in the first place because he hated to see her starve?

Hiccup shook his head violently. This headache was starting to affect him.

Eventually, the young explorer dug into his own pack and started gnawing on the cured venison Toothless and himself had caught a few weeks ago, staring out towards the horizon. The ebony dragon stirred and sat down beside him, feeding off of the same nervous energy his hatching was exuding. Without having to turn towards him and watch his movements, Toothless could tell exactly what was troubling his human beyond the presence of his mate.

The incessant drone in their minds was beginning to grow worse with each passing day.

They were both feeling it; Toothless could sense the same buzz of energy humming from the human's limbs, throbbing to the repetitive hum of his pounding head. And it got even worse the closer they got to each other, especially during the prolonged contact that was necessary for both of them to continue their journey across the ocean. Hiccup had sensed this too, even though Toothless didn't really understand how he knew this – he blamed it on the fact that they hadn't been more than a few meters apart from each other for the past month since their departure from Berk. He snorted quietly, glancing sidelong at his human hatchling.

They spent far too much time together to be healthy.

Wide eyed, Toothless tried to quell the wave of horror as Hiccup smiled at the exact same time.

* * *

Packing up the last of his supplies, Hiccup attached them to Toothless' saddle and piled the rest into his backpack that he had slung over his shoulders. His bad mood, so foreign to the usually pensive boy, had waned somewhat to the far reaches of his mind, but trickles of the unusual animosity still remained. Toothless had settled into a tedious routine of watching him almost constantly, which stirred so many feelings inside of the young explorer that he was beginning to find the Night Fury's presence annoying.

But nothing could have prepared him for his greatest annoyance of all.

"So, where exactly are we going?"

Hiccup bit down on his tongue, forcing himself to keep his composure, "We're going west."

"You don't have any clear destination?"

"No."

"Doesn't that seem a little reckless to you?"

Hiccup sighed, grabbing a tuft of his mahogany hair and tugging it roughly, "No."

"Can you at least give me more than a one worded answer?"

He glared at his dragon, who lolled his tongue unhelpfully.

"No."

He heard Astrid huff in exasperation and hoist herself onto her own dragon, settling quickly into the leather saddle. She watched passively from her peripherals as Hiccup leapt onto Toothless and started hooking his prosthetic into the series of clips that were attached to the stirrup. The complex array of components and clasps boggled her mind as he continued to fiddle with the small parts, screwing in a section here and buckling a segment together there. How he had created such an impressive array of equipment was thoroughly beyond her.

And so was his bad attitude. What the Hel was wrong with him anyway?

Without wasting any more idle time, Toothless took off at a near vertical tangent and Astrid quickly followed suite, allowing the Nadder to spiral upwards at a less drastic angle in order to catch up to the nimble Fury above them. After a minute or two, they settled into a comfortable formation, Nadder and Night Fury flying side by side just beneath the clouds in the overcast sky. For hours they maintained the same heading, flying west without an actual objective to reach, and the more she thought about it, the more she hated it. For weeks Astrid had been flying towards an end, towards a goal. Now it was like they were sticking their necks out for absolutely no reason whatsoever, save the 'thrill' of exploration.

It wasn't the Viking way.

She pushed her unruly bangs out of her eyes with her free hand and sighed. When did Hiccup _ever_ follow the Viking way?

The sun was just beginning its descent along the horizons when Toothless banked left suddenly, jerking down just beneath her Nadder's withdrawn claws. Toothless and his rider let out a shriek as Hiccup reached up to cover his ears, pressing his hands against them as hard as he could in an attempt to drown out the horrible noises that had swelled like a giant sea swell over top of them.

The look of horror on Astrid's face only magnified as the sea started churning beneath of them like a whirlpool, except the water was rising instead of sinking down into the cyclone. Astrid screamed at Hiccup and urged her Nadder down in the direction of the Night Fury and his rider, the latter spiralling out of control towards the frothing waves. The Deadly Nadder nosedived for the falling pair and extended her sharp paws, seizing Toothless by the hind legs before they crashed against the foam. The cerulean dragon fought to hoist all four of them back up into the clouds, the extra weight forcing her to beat her heavy wings double time.

Between moving her body back and forth in the saddle to help her Nadder gain momentum and keeping her eyes trained on the pair beneath of them, Astrid barely had the chance to duck before a torrent of water streaked passed her head, dousing her and her dragon in ice cold water. She gritted her teeth together and wiped the water from her goggles with her free hand, peering down over her dragon's withers at the tempestuous eye of the cyclone. Between every swell of the waves, she caught the tiniest glimpse of the force of nature that was causing it all; a huge, legless body the size of the mainland in width, covered in lurid, overlapping scales...

And that was only a portion of it.

She heard Hiccup and Toothless cry out again against the crashing of the waves, and Astrid urged her Nadder on in haste. So long as they were near this creature, which Astrid quickly likened with the colossal snake skin she had seen on her voyage, Hiccup and Toothless were in incredible danger.

"Faster!" she screamed, urging her Nadder to fly with urgency as another torrent of water surged from the cyclone towards them. This time it collided with them full on, nearly buffeting her from her seat. She fought to get back into the saddle against the glacial wind the cyclone had summoned, her teeth chattering violently as the freezing weather turned her soggy clothes to ice. The adrenaline pumping through her veins was the only thing saving her from hypothermia as they continued their escape into the clouds, where she hoped they would find refuge from the monster below them.

She screwed her eyes shut as the volume around her rose in magnitude, and the world seemed to freeze at a standstill that she never thought would end. A roar overtook her senses with a raging, horrifying vengeance that threatened to shake her very bones from their tendons and send her plunging into the abyss. She screamed as she felt its breath against the exposed skin of her neck, putrid and rancid with the reek of decay and death. She could feel its eyes sinking into her, gouging into the back of her head like knives.

In that briefest of moments, she knew what it would feel like to _die_.

But then the clouds were approaching, and time began to race in order to catch up with the precious seconds it had lost. She shot through the cloud barrier like a missile and rocketed towards the sky above, just in time to see the enormous outline of a snake's head disappear into the clouds.

Below her, Hiccup and Toothless returned to their senses long enough to regain their faculties, and the Nadder quickly released them from her sharpened claws. The matching looks of horror on their faces as they stared down at the veiled, retreating shape of their pursuer never melted into one of relief.

'_tihhhhhvezhhhhven…'_

They shuddered as the serpent's voice waned into silence in their minds, the drone of his presence at the back of their psyche slowly wilting into a whisper. It had spoken to them, taunted them, toyed with them…

It knew their _names…_

Hiccup gripped the handles of his saddles until he lost the circulation in his hands; he stared down at the clouds until his eyes, wide and haunted, began to tear. He sat rigid in his saddle until the muscles in his back screamed in protest, the wound in his ribcage aching.

He didn't feel any of it.

He didn't hear Astrid crying out to him as they soared against an updraft. He didn't see her face as she flew before him, her expression scared and fretful.

All he saw were memories he wasn't familiar with, playing over and over again like a series of pictures in his mind.

All he heard were the echoing screams of a snake as old as the middle earth itself, laughing like a mad king on his throne.

Eventually, they withdrew from their standstill and started to follow Astrid and her Nadder towards the west, flying on autopilot just behind them. Toothless was just as preoccupied as his rider, having sensed the correlation of their thoughts at the brink of the monster's psychological assault. When the snake had spoken to both of them, it was as if it had branded them as one being; it spoke to them as a singular unit, and this worried the ebony dragon more than he cared to admit.

Because, when the snake opened their minds, Hiccup suddenly became open to _him_.

The dragon forced himself to relax, and the manner in which Hiccup slowly relieved his saddle from his death grip confirmed his theory to be unnervingly correct. So long as that blasted, snake-induced headache reverberated in the back of their minds, Hiccup and Toothless were linked.

He could sense the boy's confusion and horror without having to physically look at him, which, come to think of it, would have been impossible had they remained on Berk. He had associated it with their familiarity time and time before, but to be able to sense his emotions at that capacity was unnatural, but not necessarily unwelcome.

Hiccup stared out into the expanse with an utterly blank expression, moving his knee only in instinct to keep him and his dragon afloat. His face was a contradiction, however, to the storm that was raging like a torrent inside of him, leaving him feeling exhausted and uncomfortably exposed.

In those moments when that creature, whatever it was, had tried to kill them from the inside, Hiccup lost his mind. He saw things, felt things, smelt things he had never experienced before, in a range of colours he had never seen before, from a pair of eyes he was sure he didn't own. He saw things from an entirely different perspective, from above, from below, from upside down. He even saw himself, skewed in a myriad of technicolours brighter and denser than he himself was capable of seeing. The onslaught of the foreign memories left him drained and frightened, but confused most of all.

He hadn't understood exactly what the monster had been saying in its language when it had hissed inside his mind, but its malicious intent had been inexhaustibly clear. It was out to kill them for its own perverse pleasure, because it found them to be...intriguing. Not for any other reason per se; it just had a sick obsession with toying and killing intriguing things.

The thought made Hiccup sick to his stomach.

And not for the first time, Hiccup begged every god in Asgard to just make him _normal_.

It had also made itself clear in its intent to hunt them down no matter how well they hid. It was positively delighted that the pair continued to try and run for their lives, because as far as it was concerned, it only made the game of hide and seek more pleasurable. The seraphic, sweet satisfaction it had expressed when describing their inevitable destruction made Hiccup want to crawl out of his own skin, revolted by the way it took revelry in frightening them.

Fear, it had implored wordlessly, would make their flesh taste sweeter.

Hiccup retched violently, and threw up over the Night Fury's shoulder into the sea.

Astrid glanced over her shoulder as the boy pulled himself back into a sitting position, his complexion frail and sickly. Even Toothless looked like death warmed over, and Astrid knew without a doubt that they would have to land soon regardless of the gigantic sea serpent stalking the depths of the sea below them. The clouds were parting and the sun was beginning to shine through, illuminating patches of the calm ocean below them. The snake had probably retreated for the moment, but Astrid was never one to get too optimistic about anything.

Just over an hour later, she spotted an island on the horizon and urged her Nadder to change directions and head towards it. The cerulean dragon eagerly complied, tired after hauling the Night Fury in winds not unlike a raging hurricane. She'd been caught in a number of tropical storms before, having migrated down towards to the sweltering coasts of the lower main continent many times before her enslavement by the Red Death. But what they had been forced to fly in was nothing short of unnatural, and the screams, not to mention the reek, of that snake creature was reason enough to take a break and try to forget about it.

Astrid landed a few minutes before Hiccup and she diligently scouted the place out for a shelter. She hastily found a cave on the side of an escarpment and slunk in, her axe in hand just in case the space was already inhabited. Luckily, the cave seemed more or less abandoned and Astrid returned to the snow trodden mouth, searching for the closest source of wood to make a fire.

As she hacked down a tree with the duller side of her axe, Astrid kept a wary eye in the sky for the Night Fury and his rider. They crash landed nearby and Astrid ran over to help, tossing her weapon in the snow behind her. She went to yank Hiccup upright but conveniently remembered all of the mechanisms that attached his prosthetic to his foot, and quickly thought better of it.

"Are you alright?" she said, her voice still hoarse from the screaming and the salty air. Hiccup made a soft grunt in reply as Astrid bent down on her knees so that she could get a better look at the stirrup. Scanning the mechanism over once, she realized that it wasn't as difficult as it had seemed at first glance, and with a quick flick of the four main clasps, Hiccup came free.

She hauled him up onto his feet and led him over to the mouth of the cave, where she sat the nearly catatonic boy down on a stone she had cleared of snow. Her Nadder was already busy trying to prod Toothless back into the land of the living, and now that both of them had been dealt with, she returned to cutting the wood for their fire. She took handful after handful inside the cave and set the logs up in a triangular pile before coming back outside into the setting sun.

"Come on Hiccup," she urged, lifting the boy back up onto his feet. She brought him inside and plopped him back down again just as Toothless and her Nadder made their way through the cavern and into the main chamber. Astrid didn't have to say a word as the azure dragon walked over and promptly set the heap of logs on fire, bathing the igneous rocks surrounding them in a wash of orange light.

Astrid's heart got the better of her as she pulled Toothless' saddle bags off of his tack and set them aside, hauling out Hiccup's sleeping sack as she did so. She rolled it out by the fire and set Hiccup down on it, pushing his dishevelled hair out of his face as she got a better look at him. She didn't think he could look worse after seeing him lie on his deathbed for seventeen days after the battle of the Red Death, but she was proved wrong yet again. At least then his eyes had been closed; despite the light of the raging fire, they now looked as glassy as those of a corpse.

"What happened Hiccup?" she implored, sitting down beside him on the matted fur of his sleeping bag. She put her arm around his shoulders and leant forward to match his hunched silhouette, staring blankly into the fire.

"We're being hunted."

Astrid pursed her lips, raising one of her eyebrows, "Well, that was obvious. I meant, what happened to you?"

"I…" he ran his hands through his knotted hair, his expression confused and desperate, "I don't…I don't know. I don't know what's going on."

He breathed out a few times, as if he were trying to prepare himself to voice something; Astrid kept her silence in anticipation of what he would say next, "One minute I'm…I'm me and then I…and then I'm seeing things that…that don't belong to me. And it's all because of that thing…that thing that's apparently trying to eat me and Toothless for fun."

"For fun?" Astrid asked, her eyes questioning, "How do you even know that?"

"Because I can understand it," Hiccup replied, his voice as morose as his expression, "And that's not even the worst part."

"What?"

Hiccup sighed and hung his head, "Days ago – maybe a week, I don't know – we were attacked and…I got a headache. But the headache…it's…it's how I can hear it. And Toothless can here it too. It thinks we're connected somehow, like Toothless and I are the same person, even though we're not."

"Well, Toothless does rely on you to fly. Technically, you're his tailfin after all."

"This thing is intelligent enough to distinguish a human from a tailfin Astrid."

"Well obviously. But you two are inseparable. It's not that difficult to imagine that a foreign…gigantic sea serpent, who isn't exactly familiar with the nature of humans, would see you as anything but."

"Still…I find it hard to believe."

"Well, you better start believing, and soon. From what I've gathered, we won't be getting away from this without a fight."

"We? Astrid," Hiccup finally turned towards her, his facial expression both frantic and fraught, "I can't have you being pulled into this. You need to leave before you get hurt, or worse."

"What?" Astrid stared at him like he was completely insane, and crossed her arms tightly over her chest, "Are you crazy? There is absolutely no way I'm leaving you to be eaten by a giant snake!"

"I can't win this Astrid," he pleaded, "You have to go, now if you can."

"No! I'm not leaving!"

"Astrid, you have to! I don't need your death on my conscious too!"

"I'm staying here!"

"No you're not!

"Yes I am!"

"No you're not!"

"Gods, why are you being so difficult?"

"Because I don't want you to die!"

"How are you so sure that I'm going to die?"

"I just know!"

By this time, both Hiccup and Astrid were on their feet, their exhaustion forgotten as their anger for each other flowed through their veins.

"Did your snake friend give you super powers to see the future now too?"

"No, gods damnit Astrid – can't you just listen to me for once in your life?"

"Listen? What do you think I did when I jumped onto that dragon with you for the very first time?"

"You only got on because you had to!

"That's not the point!" she shrieked, barely keeping herself from strangling the bedraggled boy in front of her, "I trusted you! I put my faith in you! So why can't you put any faith in me?"

"Because I'm about to get murdered by Jormungand, that's why!"

"You don't know that!"

"Yes I do!"

"No you don't!"

"Yes I do!"

"No you don't!"

"Fine! You're right! Happy?"

"No, I'm not happy! Now, I'm staying, so deal with it!"

"You're going to get killed, don't you understand? I can't escape it! It'll hunt me down no matter where I go!"

"Then we'll go somewhere inland where it can never reach you!"

"There is no we! Go home Astrid! Go back to your family, your friends, before it's too late."

"I'm not going anywhere!"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why won't you go?"

"Because!"

"Because why?"

Astrid was about to open her mouth with another standoffish retort when Hiccup buckled over in front of her, cradling his abdomen in his arms and gasping out loud. Astrid rushed to his side immediately and gingerly helped him back down onto the furs, her wrath forgotten as she laid him horizontal. She started peeling layer after layer of clothing up from where he had tucked them into his trousers, revealing the pale, infected skin that lied beneath.

"Hiccup," she breathed, gazing at the crusted wound. She looked back up towards Hiccup's pained expression before being drawn back to the festering wound on his ribcage, her stomach churning.

"Please," he whispered back, his eyes screwed shut in agony. He curled his hands into fists and held them rigid at his sides, his back arched and contorted as he tried to get a hold on himself. Beads of sweat were beginning to pepper his skin as he forced himself to regulate his breathing, hoping that his shallow breaths would minimize the movement of his chest.

From the other side of the fire, Toothless pulled himself to his claws and stumbled over to his rider in an attempt to try and help. He missed a few times, dropping his head at the wrong angle too many times to count, but when he finally did manage to slop his tongue onto Hiccup's skin, he couldn't help but notice Astrid gasp.

She reacted in nearly the same way Hiccup had, in that she couldn't drag her eyes away. She'd never even considered the practical applications of anything dragon related, save the convenience of transportation, but now that she thought of it, she hadn't ever seen a blemish on Hiccup's face since she had actually started paying attention to his looks…

His heavy breathing lessened as the minutes drew on, and the colour began to return to his face in the orange light of the fire. Astrid scooted closer to his head and brushed his hair to the side with a flick of her wrist, smiling fondly.

"Your hair is worse than Tuffnut's," she said quietly, grinning when she received the response she had desired.

"Great Odin, cut it off!" he grimaced in reply, wincing when his laughter put too much stress on the re-healing wound. She cradled his head in her hands and set him down in her lap, reaching inside the pocket of her belt for her own comb. She pulled it out and began detangling his unruly mane section by section, basking in the comfortable silence of the cavern's fire. She heard him sigh after she unsnarled a particularly tough knot, and she leant forward so she could get a better look at the expression on his face.

"Thank you," he murmured, closing his eyes as he felt her shift forwards. He didn't have to be able to see her to feel the relief that washed over her, nor the press of her lips against his forehead.

His eyes snapped open.

"I still haven't changed my mind you know," she replied in return, resuming her assault on his tangled hair as if nothing had happened.

"A…Astrid…" he took a deep breath, ignoring the sting in his side, "I can't just fly in on a whim like last time; this thing is a thousand times worse than the Red Death! That dragon was a mother hen in comparison to this…this creature. He's the stuff of legend, and he's trying to kill me!"

"Shush Hiccup," she quieted him with a tug of his hair, "You've got one thing on your side."

Hiccup tried not to sound incredulous, "And what's that?"

"It underestimates you, and humans in general. It thinks you're nothing but a puppet, when you're really just the opposite! You may not be able to outrun it, or outfly it, but did it ever cross your mind that you could outsmart it?"

"Outsmart it?" Hiccup raised an eyebrow in confusion, "How?"

"You're one of the smartest people I know Hiccup," she assured him, "You're a tactical genius, and that alone should give you the advantage. This snake might be fierce and manipulative, but the ocean only spans so far. You've got the entire sky to work with, plus any land you may encounter."

Hiccup was quiet for a moment before replying, "But how do I beat it?"

Astrid rolled her eyes and shook her head warmly, briefly remembering who she was dealing with, "The old fashioned Viking way of course! You kill it! I saw that sword you made for yourself; you can't tell me that you made it for no reason."

"I made it for self defense, not for going around and getting myself killed trying to hack a snake's head off."

"Well, that much is obvious – you couldn't cut off its head, even with a hundred swords. You have to find its weakest spot and strike it there."

"How…how do you even know all this?"

"I always was the better hunter," she said with a smile. Hiccup turned his head up towards her so that he could see her face, and was unable to keep himself from smiling a little as well, "I can't pretend that I'm as smart as my great aunt, or even you, but sometimes I can think up some pretty intelligent things."

"You're the smartest woman I know."

"Good answer," Astrid replied with a laugh, settling back into combing the knots in his hair. For a while, only the crackle of the fire could be heard, and as she finished the last strands of his hair, she set his head back down and laid beside him, careful not to press her body too close to his. Smiling sleepily, he brought his hand down to hers and tangled their fingers together, cracking open one of his eyelids just in time to see her smile.

And as the tendrils of sleep began to take hold of his body, he heard Astrid whisper something from beside him, something that struck a chord deep within.

"My great aunt once told me that those of us who only concern ourselves with the past are like prisoners. She said that it's because they don't live in the present, and the present is where the future begins."

Hiccup smiled and tightened his grip on her fingers. He could start living in the present; he could see the faults of his ways.

He just wasn't sure if he could do it alone.

With a yawn, Hiccup exhaled quietly and pulled Astrid closer to him, hugging her close to his body.

Either way, it would just have to wait until tomorrow...

* * *

Hooray! A little danger, a little romance, a little suspense! How did you like it? Did the dialogue seem accurate to you? I really wanted to highlight their compatibility, like what was shown during Astrid's pep talk in the movie. She's his anchor, and he's the vessel, in a manner of speaking. Without her, he'd never have a chance to take a moment and collect himself before going out and achieving greatness.

Please leave a review as well! I'd love to hear what you think, as well as your theories concerning the final arc of this saga. :)

Brontë


	18. Requiem

**HORIZONS**__

_**Requiem**_

* * *

Nearly one thousand years ago, in the year 53 CE, a small village near the Kushan port of Barbarikon flourished on the edge of the sea. The able-bodied men of the village manned the fishing boats while the woman and children worked diligently in their homes and at the small temple palace. Beneath their head of sovereign, the First Prince of Klalchayan, life in the Small Village was secure and peaceful. To the east, the First Prince ravaged territories and felled kingdoms, gaining power and wealth for his Empire. But this meant very little to the people of the Small Village, who were concerned mostly with the weather, the trade winds, and the fish.

A young boy sat at the temple steps, staring down at the ritualistic slippers that covered his feet. His most important feature, his skull, was distorted in the shape of an hourglass, and this casted a strange shadow beside him onto the carefully swept stone stairway. Swathed in Chinese silks sent to him by his Uncle, the Young Boy tried not to look like he was going to cry.

He had been bidden by his father to attend a meeting between the leader of the Small Village and an important merchant from Barbarikon, but he had been thrust out of the banquet hall of the temple when he had offered his own opinion on the subject. His father had been enraged by his strange suggestions and had promptly slapped him for his ignorance, sending him out into the main worship room to await further punishment. Humiliated and upset, the Young Boy rushed out through the front doors and slumped down onto the steps outside, hating himself for being different.

Did he mention that his father was the leader of their village?

The Young Boy buried his face in his hands and sighed, accepting that his life would never get better. He would continue to be the laughing stock of his village, and would disgrace his ancestors for the rest of his life.

He was the only legitimate heir to his father's position; all of his other brothers and sisters had been born from concubines, and were forbidden to take his place unless the Young Boy was killed. His mother was deathly ill with an incurable sickness and was not able to bear children for her husband any longer, which displeased the Small Village's leader to no end. He prayed to _Ahura Mazda_ every eve for the death of his wife to come swiftly, if only so that he could remarry and sire a true heir to his village, but the benevolent god overlooked his worship, and spared her graciously come every morning.

The Young Boy loved his mother very dearly, but his father saw his compassion as a weakness. In his father's eyes, he was nothing but a nuisance to his leadership, and a disgrace to his lineage.

Unable to stop himself, the Young Boy buried his face in his hands and cried.

He would have stayed there until the end of the _frasho dereti_ had it not been for the sudden blanket of darkness over the sky, and the screaming that was coming from the ports of his little village. He looked up from his damp palms in horror as a torrent of water shot up into the humid air, raining down on the Small Village with the force of a monsoon. The water forced the roofs of their homes to crumble, and the flood took the villagers' feet from under them, sweeping them into the sea.

His body started to quake violently, but whether it was from the fear or not, he couldn't be sure. He gripped his head as a horrible headache suddenly overtook his senses, nearly sucking every ounce of breath from his lungs. He gasped as he collapsed to his knees in agony, his eyes watering and his body screaming against the invisible bonds that seemed to have captured him.

_'assshhikhqoyisssshir...'_

He shivered violently and stared upwards towards the sky. Something terrible had blocked out the sun; it was not a cloud, nor an eclipse, but a demon sent by _Angra Mainyu_ himself. Its head spewed gas over the Small Village, and the Young Boy watched as his townspeople held their throats as they suffocated, sinking to the ground.

Blindly, the Young Boy stumbled to his feet and began to run through town, tripping over falling bodies still grappling for air. He ran towards his home, his mother, hoping on a whim that _Ahura Mazda_ had spared her once again.

He threw the door open, and tried not to look as their woman slave writhed on the ground, liquid oozing down from her painted lips. He leapt over her and burst into his parent's chambers, praying to every god in Kushan he could think of. He skidded to a stop as he spotted her on her woollen mattress, prone and bent at an odd angle. Her eyes were sunken into her distorted skull and her skin was as shrivelled as a fruit left too long in the summer sun. The Young Boy shrieked as the mummified form of his mother buckled inwards, her bones turning to dust inside her body as the venom ravaged her organs from within. He collapsed onto his knees and wept aloud in terror and sorrow as he cradled her withered hand in his, quivering as his splitting headache ran clear through his veins yet again.

'_Ruunnnnnn…'_

The Young Boy swallowed and allowed one more cry of grief to pass his lips before he leapt through the windowpane and landed in the gardens of their backyard, hitting the ground running. He fled towards the temple only for him to see his father wriggling like a fish out of water on the temple steps, inadvertently rolling down the stone way in his final dying dance.

He landed at the bottom, the sickening crack of his broken neck shattering the throbbing in the Young Boy's head for but a moment, stopping time. His father's limbs crumpled to the ground like a dead weight, no longer moving, no longer writhing. His eyes were passive and lifeless, his hateful expression finally tranquil after years of glaring at his useless son, ridiculing him, despising him.

He was finally dead.

The Young Boy continued to stare for a moment, so overwhelmed with emotions that he couldn't drum up the compassion to grieve.

Time returned with a vengeance, and the Young Boy took off running again at the urging of the demon, fleeing to the outer boundaries of the Small Village towards the Indus River. For hours he flew, tearing through the fertile fields and sandy ridges with no location in mind. All he knew was that he had to continue running, to get away from the demon, to get away from his home.

There was no more Small Village.

Everything he ever knew was gone.

He tripped over a ridge hidden by grass and fell forwards, weeping with abandon into the undergrowth. The demon had destroyed his home, his family, his mother. He hadn't been able to stop it. He hadn't been able to save her. He sobbed for her, his voice carrying on the wind a song of sadness, of compassion, of grief. Her funeral hymn was the sound of the locusts buzzing, the cicadas warbling, the vultures crying.

He hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye.

* * *

Twenty one winters passed before the Young Boy returned to the sea. He stood upon the golden sands by the ruins of the Small Village and closed his tired eyes, knowing that the demon would be there when he opened them.

"You have taken my family, my childhood, my home. I am the last of my kind. You may take me."

He opened his eyes and forced himself not to quiver at the sight of Him. He had spent twenty one years of his life running in fear like a child in a man's body, too afraid to take action, too afraid to fight back.

The snake's head, now resting against the coastal sands, was as large as the worshiping temples in Scythia, and nearly twice as wide. He did not dare to look the monster in his eyes, for fear of becoming hypnotized by his evilness. The Young Boy dipped his head as the waves of the ocean lapped against the snake's massive jowls, signalling his guileless defeat.

"You may take me."

The snake grinned at the broken human, his tears streaming down his dirty, wrinkled face. The chase had been a magnificent one; he had learnt that humans, if anything, were very intriguing.

At last, the demon opened his colossal jaws.

'_Gladly…'_

* * *

If you're confused, check out the last few paragraphs of **Verðandi and the End of All Things: Chapter VII **for a little refresher.

I wrote **Requiem** for two reasons:

1) I wanted to introduce to you the dark themes that will take a truly dominant role of this final arc. Take a moment to look up at the rating - this fic is rated **T** for mortality. I assure you that **Horizons** is by no means a tragedy fic (I'm far too much of a hopeless romantic for that), but there will be dark moments.

2) I wanted to show you guys my chops at original fiction! I'm a huge ancient history buff and even though the Small Village is fictional, the Kushan Empire was very, _very_ real. All of the cultural references I made were heavily researched because I'm, if anything, a very thorough writer. If you ever see an ancient historical fiction novel one day under the pseudonym Brontë, it's probably me!

Please let me know how you liked the chapter, and I'd love to hear your theories on how it relates to the big picture. This is one of the first original fiction pieces I've ever posted on the internet in general before so let me know if it was any good!

Brontë


	19. We Are Skuld

**Nine days.**

**Nine days I went without internet. I hate tornadoes. They are a giant pain in my ass. **

**I'm so sorry I didn't get to reply to most of you but I just want you to know that I loved hearing from you! I appreciate what you have to say so much and I always look forward ro reading your inspiring reviews. Without them, this story simply wouldn't be.**

**I hope you can understand why I took such a long sabbatical (hello Mother Nature). I promise it won't be this long again.**

**And now, the final arc of the saga. May I remind you that Horizons is now a strong T.**

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc III : We Are Skuld  
**_

**_Chapter I_**

* * *

Hiccup woke up with a start, his green eyes gaping wide as he absorbed his surroundings in a frenzy. He heaved involuntarily, his back arching as he gasped desperately for breath, and his hands clung instinctively to the closest thing to him.

Astrid stirred restlessly in her sleep – her head having been nestled gently on the hollow of his chest – as he gripped her body like it was the only thing left in Midgard to hold on to. His dream, still so fresh in his mind, had shaken him to the very core and unconsciously, she proved to be the only thing he felt he could hold onto.

He turned his head to the right as he came around, already sensing that Toothless was awake and was suffering from the same ill affliction as well. He didn't have to be told twice to know that they had just shared the same dream, and Hiccup was quickly grasping at the implications of what this ancient snake had done to their heads.

Their eyes met from across the cave, both as worried for each other as they would be for their own kin. Hiccup felt the wash of Toothless' fatherly concern and basked in it, trying to reassure him with his mind that they would be okay, that they would find a way out of this.

It was odd to feel the dragon actually agree with him without even saying anything, or moving at all for that matter. He could just feel the dragon's resolve in his gut without really knowing why and there was nothing he could do to convince himself that he had imagined it.

His breathing slowed and he released his grip on the Valkyrie pressed to his side, to which she let out a small sigh. Hiccup pressed his lips into a thin line and wordlessly projected his confusion concerning the dream they had just shared to his counterpart, whose dread was quickly becoming apparent.

Once again, without really knowing how it was happening, Hiccup sensed the white dragon's involvement and caught a glimpse of her body in his mind's eye. She was almost iridescently white according to Toothless' draconian vision, which made her look even more beautiful and pristine than he remembered her as. He got the vague sense of a foreboding story, of a grisly tale that had to do with the snake and of the fear it had instilled in the many regions across the Great Continent.

He locked eyes with Toothless again as he realised exactly what the Night Fury was getting at. Was the dream they had just experienced, so real that Hiccup had practically felt the Young Boy's pain in his own heart...had it been more than just a mere fable thought up by their imaginations?

Had that actually happened?

Had that actually been real?

Hiccup desperately hoped it hadn't; their stories were too familiar for him to ignore, and the last thing he wanted was to be the last of his people, broken from the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Simultaneously, the boy and dragon realized what they had to do. The only way to free themselves from this mess would be to fight the snake, or follow in the footsteps of the Young Boy and just give up without a fight. The answer was obvious, but it was no less daunting to finally admit it and act on it. They would have to kill Jormungand, or the Leviathan, or whatever it insisted on calling itself, and they would have to somehow outsmart him at the same time.

Outsmart a snake that was millions of years old?

Hiccup pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the same trickles of anxiety wash along the forefront of Toothless' mind as well. Outsmart. He could do that. No big deal.

The boy dragged his hands down his face and moaned in misery.

He was screwed.

Toothless snorted from the other side of the room, sending him a glare that glowed in the firelight.

Oh sorry. _They_ were screwed.

* * *

When he woke up next, he found himself almost entirely alone, save the presence sitting sentinel at his side. The weight that had been lying on his chest however, was sadly gone.

He opened his eyes and pulled himself into a partially sitting position, conceding to resting most of his upper body weight on his elbows. His chest wasn't screaming in pain like it had been the night before, but it still stung at any little movement he made whether he liked it or not.

He rested his chin on his shoulder and glanced to the left, spotting something that hadn't been there before smudged on the ground. He squinted, noticing the charred stick lying beside it, and realized that the markings were runes scratched in ashes on the ground.

_'Be back soon.'_

He breathed out, tossing his head back as he closed his eyes. She was probably out finding food, or something equally important in order to sustain the four of them. He thanked every bone in his body for her tenacity in staying; it honestly hurt his already smarting pride to admit it, but he knew he'd be lost without her.

Toothless opened one of his green eyes and glanced over at his hatchling noiselessly, hating the way the boy groaned as he collapsed back down onto his back. His wound should have been healed by now, and the human's slow recovery was worrying him senseless. Besides being hunted eternally by a million year old serpent with an obsession problem, what else could possibly go wrong?

Toothless grumbled, more to himself than anything else. He was going to kill that snake.

And he was going to enjoy it.

Hiccup alternated between sitting semi-upright and lying down on his back for a good half hour; he was starting to get restless waiting for her to return for a number of reasons, mainly because he was helplessly worried about her safety, but also because he missed her. In that half hour, he came to a number of startling conclusions, some more than others – some of them were guesses as to her whereabouts, but one particular realization stood out as the most important one of them all.

He was madly and irrefutably in love with her.

He just had to find a way to tell her before they got themselves killed.

He fell onto his back with a huff and raked his fingers roughly through his hair, content that he could actually comb through his unruly mane without his hand getting caught in all of the knots that had been ensnared in there before. Having lived so long without the comforts of home, Hiccup was starting to become truly grateful for all of the small things that made his life just that little bit easier.

But mostly, he was just grateful for her.

When he heard a rustle from the mouth of their cave, he immediately forgot about the pain in his side in his excitement and sat up to greet her. This proved to be an awfully stupid mistake as he tried to subdue his hiss of agony, but she was far too observant at reading all of his quirks to miss it.

In a matter of seconds, she was kneeling at his side, the half dozen hares she had caught for lunch thrown without a second thought to the floor.

"You idiot!" she shrieked, catching him from behind as he fought to catch his breath. She helped him back down onto his back and shot him a withering look that told of a thousand horrible consequences should he move so much as a muscle. Pleased that he had been thoroughly distracted from the pain, Astrid went back to the rabbit she had hunted and picked them up one by one before returning back to the fire.

"Where...where'd you go?" he wheezed, turning his head to the left in an attempt to avoid the glare of fury that the green eyed dragon on his right was trying to pierce him with.

"To find us some food," she replied hastily, thankfully preparing the hares on the other side of the fire, just out of his plane of vision, "I found a hot spring not too far from here too."

"A spring?"

"Yeah," she replied, smiling wryly, "You stink. I can't believe I slept next to you and didn't suffocate."

Hiccup was quiet for a moment before breaking out into peals of aching laughter; it was exactly what he had needed to break the heavy tension, considering his discoveries during the night prior.

"Thank you for summing that up for me," he replied dryly, grinning despite himself. It was hard not to when she was peering over her shoulder like she was, her eyes sparkling in the firelight with amusement.

"You're welcome," she grinned, chortling as she continued to prepare the meat. Their laughter dissolved into a comfortable silence as she spitted two of them and tossed the other four to Toothless, who practically swallowed all of them in one gulp.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to chew your food?" Astrid lectured jokingly, wagging a finger at the ebony dragon. Toothless graced her with one of his widest grin until she couldn't stop herself, and laughed at the ridiculous expression on his face, "Did you teach him how to do that?"

Hiccup did his best impression of a shrug, "When we first met, he tried to imitate my smile. He looked just as ridiculous then as he does now – nothing's changed."

Toothless sent Hiccup his most withering glare before settling back down on his belly and resting his chin on his paws. He appeared to be asleep, but he wasn't fooling anybody - he kept one eye on his hatchling and the other on the boy's mate, waiting for what would happen next.

"Come on then," Astrid said quietly, walking up beside Hiccup and helping him into a sitting position. He grinded his teeth together but made no outward motion that hinted that he was in pain otherwise, but Astrid wasn't stupid. With a sigh that clearly spoke of the beatings to come, Astrid let go of him and sat cross legged beside him, handing him one of the roasted hares on its spit.

"Thanks," Hiccup muttered quietly, taking the fettered wood in his grasp. He brought his free hand up and broke off one of the rabbit's hind legs, to which he ate silently as he watched the girl sitting across from him.

She ate like an animal. And that wasn't even the frightening part.

Astrid ripped into the hare with her teeth, chewing as if she were one of the men in the Mead Hall. And then she would lick her lips ever so slowly, catching the juices with her tongue in a way that made Hiccup want to collapse in on himself.

"What?"

Hiccup realized he had been caught staring and averted his eyes quickly, a raging blush colouring his features. Astrid brought the hare up to her mouth, effectively hiding the smirk plastered all over her face, and continued to eat like nothing had happened.

"How are you feeling?"

"B-better," he fought to respond, but with his bodily functions waging war inside of him, he was surprised he could even form a coherent word and force it past his lips.

"Does it still hurt as much as it did last night?"

"Not –not really. It still stings a little, but it's healing."

"That's good," she replied, doing her best to suck the meat from the ribs. Hiccup tactfully avoided her gaze and kept his eyes trained on the embers of the fire in an attempt to keep hold of his sanity, "But how'd you get that in the first place? It's a weird wound."

Hiccup nodded, still avoiding eye contact, "When the snake first found us, he chased us straight into a storm. We landed on the coast of Greonland, but I slipped and cut myself. The rest of the story is a bit of a blur, but Toothless managed to heal most of it."

"So dragons have healing powers then?"

"Yeah, yeah I guess. I had my suspicions but actually seeing it in action…that was weird."

"I'd say."

"But yeah, I don't know why it didn't totally heal. Maybe their abilities only span so far."

"It's likely," Astrid used her index finger to wipe a dribble of juice from her chin and lapped it up with her finger. Hiccup shuddered, unable to stop himself from watching, "But it's probably just because you haven't given yourself enough time to heal. If it was as deep as it looked to be, you're lucky you're still alive."

Hiccup stammered, his body and mind in a frantic fight to ignore each other, "I-I...yeah, yeah definitely."

Astrid fought to contain her smirk again, and used the remains of her meal to hide it, "Something wrong?"

"Wrong?" he squeaked, his voice betraying him, "N-no no, nothing's wrong."

Astrid narrowed her eyes playfully, "Are you sure?"

Hiccup gulped, "Y-yeah."

Astrid shrugged and started chowing down again, leaving Hiccup squirming in his seat until he finally drummed up the courage to say something.

"Astrid?"

"Mm hmm?" she replied, her mouth full of rabbit.

"Could you...could you maybe, you know, um..." he swallowed uncomfortably as his eyes were drawn to her lips, glistening in the firelight, "Stop?"

Astrid was doing all she could not to laugh, "Stop what?" she said innocently.

"All...all that," he gestured frantically with his hands.

"All what?" she raised one of her eyebrows, her tone incredulous, "Eating? I'd die if I didn't eat."

"Not eating," he corrected, getting more and more flustered by the second as she licked her fingers clean, "You...you're like...you look like you're making out with it!"

Astrid started laughing hysterically at his outburst, and Hiccup's cheeks turned furiously red as the sound of his outburst reached his ears. He hadn't meant to say it like that, but then again, he never had much of a filter in the first place, which had always landed him in heaps of trouble. He hunched his shoulders in preparation for a punch that never came, and upon opening his eyes, he spotted Astrid, still laughing, her greasy lips pulled into a huge grin.

"Oh fine!" she finally said between bursts of laughter, setting her mostly eaten rabbit down beside her, "Way to ruin my fun."

It took him a minute to comprehend the implications of what she was saying, "Wait...you were doing that on purpose?"

"It was fun to watch you squirm!" she replied, grinning cheekily as she continued to laugh. Realizing what had happened, Hiccup hunched in on himself in a mixture of embarrassment and injured pride, exchanging a glance with the dragon on his right.

Toothless shrugged; this verbal form of primary was fascinating to the point of being ridiculous.

Hiccup sighed, and they finished the rest of their meal in silence, although it was hard to ignore the smugness coming off of Astrid in waves as she sat in front of him. Lost in an inner monologue, Hiccup took back his previous declaration that he was in love with her, and decided that if that snake didn't manage to kill him, she would probably be the one to finish the job.

Once he was finished, Hiccup sat the spit down beside him, only for Astrid to snatch it back up again, "Full?"

"Yeah," he replied, his pride still worse for wear. Astrid rolled her eyes as she got to her feet and threw the remains of their meal in the heart of the fire, to which she started stoking with enthusiasm.

"Good. Because we've got some work to do."

"Work?" Hiccup gulped, "What kind of work?"

Astrid glanced over her shoulder, "Tactical work. If we're going to beat this thing, don't you think we should – you know – have a plan?"

Hiccup breathed out quietly, rubbing the back of his neck out of habit, "You know what they say about the best laid plans..."

"Oh come on," she rebutted, ignoring the growing expression of dread on Hiccup's features, "Well, do you have anything better in mind?"

Hiccup's lack of response answered her question without her having to ask again. She crossed her arms over her chest and started towards him, stopping just in front of his stooped figure, "Come on. We can't just wing this thing," she dropped down to her knees and started helping him to his feet, "And while we're at it, I'm making you take a bath. If I closed my eyes, I'd swear you were Tuffnut."

That was a step too far, and Hiccup had the gall to look mock-offended, "I do not! That's impossible!"

Astrid laughed, keeping her arm beneath his until he balanced on his feet, "Trust me. Would I lie to you?"

"I don't know..." Hiccup trailed off, eyeing her suspiciously. Astrid just smirked and started leading the way out of the cave, but not before fetching a change of clothes out of his basket. She took the tunic and leggings into her side pack and waited for Hiccup to catch up to her, moving slowly at his side, "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"Nope!" she chirped, squinting when she spotted daylight at the mouth of the cave, "Now let's get going. We've got a plan to make."

* * *

"Uh, Astrid?"

"Yes?"

"Aren't...aren't you going to turn around?"

Astrid threw him a withering glance, planting her hands on her hips, "I'm not looking," she assured him, sitting gingerly on the top of a stone at the edge of the spring. Hiccup swallowed uncomfortably and continued to shed most of his outer layers in the relative shelter of the cavern at the cusp of the spring, a blush painted on his features.

"Still..."

Astrid rolled her eyes, aggravated by his unwavering self-consciousness, "What makes you think I even want to look?"

Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say as Hiccup visibly wilted at her ill thought out statement. Astrid sighed, unable to suppress the onslaught of guilt as she watched him visibly crumble, and pressed her hand over her eyes.

"I promise I won't look, okay?"

Hiccup nodded, more to himself than to her considering that her eyes were now covered, and finished stripping to his underclothes. He glared as his amputated stub with disdain as he unstrapped the prosthetic from his calf, leaving the device resting on the top of a crooked stone. He shivered as he took off his tunic, leaving his upper body exposed to the cold air, and quickly threw off his leggings and his under shorts before slipping into the water and sinking until only his head remained exposed.

"Are you decent?" Astrid asked, already knowing he was in the water. He was a fool for taking her word, considering she had watched him through the cracks between her fingers the whole time.

"Yeah," he croaked, hoping that she hadn't noticed the way his voice squeaked. It was doing that all too often lately, and his current predicament wasn't helping him any.

"Good," she replied shakily, lifting her hand from her eyes. She fought to keep the blush from her cheeks as she painstakingly looked in another direction, tactfully ignoring his naked form a few feet away.

At a loss for words, Hiccup turned his back towards her and started scrubbing at the filth on his face, his mind running in a million different directions. Despite the blonde distraction sitting behind him, his mind kept focussing on the one thing that had been haunting him for weeks, throwing his thoughts into chaos.

"So…" she said softly, practically reading his mind, "Where do we start?"

He peered over his shoulder, the dark mood somewhat stifling his nervousness, "You tell me."

"Well," she replied, kneading her hands together, "Let's go over what we know so far."

"About the snake?"

Astrid sighed impatiently, "Yes. About the snake."

"Well…" he trailed off, raking through what he had learnt the night before, "It's…it's obsessive. It wants to kill Toothless and I, and I don't think it'll rest until we're dead."

"Okay," Astrid muttered, looking pensive, "But we already know that. What else?"

"It's old," Hiccup splashed a handful of water on his face, rubbing his palms vigorously against his cheeks, "Really old, and it's been on a reign of terror since the world was started. It hasn't lost one victim yet, and it's determined to keep going for as long as it takes until it wins."

"So…it's stubborn. Not exactly a weakness," Astrid mused, "but we could find some way to use it against him. Keep going."

"It can get into our minds," Hiccup dunked his head back, and Astrid caught a fleeting glimpse of his chest in the movement, "The first time it got us, it tried to kill us from the inside. But once we got out of its reach, we were okay."

"By going up?"

"Yeah," he replied, scratching at his scalp, "The higher we went, the less affected we were."

"Alright. So as long as we stay as high as we can, we have an advantage."

"But we can't kill it by flying out of its reach."

Silence rung heavily in her ears as Astrid slowly grasped onto the logic behind Hiccup's reasoning. The boy took in Astrid's contemplative expression and continued, "At some point, we'll have to fly into its range and try and attack it physically. There's no other way."

"But…we'll be vulnerable…"

"Do we have a choice?" Hiccup said, a trickle of dread seeping in from the back of his mind. They were in way over their heads, and they knew it.

"No…I guess not…" Astrid fisted the opposite sleeves of her coat roughly in her palms. Planning a hunting trip was easy, but this? Astrid hadn't even seen a snake in her life.

"There's a good chance that fire won't be able to damage it, being a sea serpent and all," Hiccup continued, raking his fingers through his hair as a makeshift comb, "Somehow, we'll have to get at it ourselves."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Astrid asked, her voice carrying as acerbic edge.

"Aren't you the one with all the battle expertise?" Hiccup shot back, his voice mirroring her own. Astrid swallowed uncomfortably, desperately searching her mind for something, anything to help.

"We have to find its weak spot," she finally said, avoiding his gaze.

"And where's that?" the dread he had been feeling before was now multiplying inside his chest with every passing second, "The last time I saw a snake, I was eight on a trip to the mainland!"

"What about an eel?" Astrid tried to keep a level head, but the panic that was coming off of Hiccup in waves was beginning to affect her too, "They're kind of the same, aren't they?"

"I…I guess," Hiccup breathed in deeply, consciously trying to calm his pounding heart, "But we can't just fly in there and cut its head off like we would an eel."

"No…" Astrid trailed off. Inspiration hit her suddenly, and she was on her feet in a flash.

"Astrid?" Hiccup cried, trying not to sound as hysterical as he felt.

"I'll be right back!" she said, leaping off of the stone and landing on the ground in a perfect crouch, recovering easily. She jolted out of the cave and disappeared out of sight, leaving Hiccup all alone.

Without her around, Hiccup was able to calm himself more easily. He stepped up onto a rock and left his upper body exposed, staring down at the wound that refused to heal on his chest. The upper and lower parts of the huge cut were only slightly scarred now, but the heart of the gash was still red and raw with scabs. He grazed his hand over the lesion and winced as his nerves rebelled against him, sending a jolt of pain rocketing up his spine. He hissed and sunk back down beneath the water, throwing his head gently back against a rock.

He closed his eyes and brooded for a moment, trying to come up with a way to get them both out of this alive. If anything, he would sacrifice himself to save her, and Toothless if he could. A life trapped on the ground would be better than no life at all, unless Hiccup could get her to…

The steady pounding of footsteps broke him out of his reverie. He sat up straight and watched her come running back into the cave, a writhing eel held proudly in her hands.

"How…how did you get—"

"Doesn't matter!" Astrid called back, jumping back up onto the stone she had been lazing on earlier. She grabbed it just beneath its jaw and studied it with scrutiny, eyes narrowed as the creature heaved for water.

She pressed her thumb roughly at the nape of the creature's neck, watching with fascination as it twitched in agony. Keeping her thumb in place, Astrid dug for the dagger from its cranny on the inside of her boot and held the hilt in her palm, hesitating for a moment.

She dug the tip of the blade into the back of its neck and the eel shrieked in her grasp, writhing once before collapsing limply over her fingers. Its sticky blood oozed down the length of her arm as she continued to stare at it with gruesome fascination.

"That's it."

"What?"

"That's it!" Astrid exclaimed, throwing the dead carcass behind her in a flurry of movement, "We have to embed something in the back of its head! We have to get on top of it somehow, and then stab it right where its head connects with the rest of its body!"

"My sword," Hiccup said numbly, the beginnings of a plan already forming in his mind.

"Yes! That's perfect!" Astrid said, leaping to her feet and pacing. She continued to talk animatedly, but Hiccup wasn't listening. The starkness of their plan was slowly coming into light and the realisation he felt crash down upon him was terrifying, but not surprising.

No matter what, he wasn't getting out of this alive.

But if there was some way, no matter how farfetched, that he could save both Astrid and Toothless from perishing as well…

Well, he would be okay with it.

He lowered his entire body under the surface of the water, effectively muting Astrid's voice from above him. His thought process came full circle as he remembered why he had come out all this way in the first place; to fancy the simple whims of a foolish boy who thought he could cheat death and visit his mother in Valhalla. How had so much changed so suddenly? He looked back on it and didn't even recognize himself.

Why?

He burst through the barrier of the water and took a harrowing gasp of breath. He blocked the world out as he shut his eyes and tried to calm his heavy breathing, and the pain burning in his chest. A swell of piercing acceptance washed over him as he inhaled deeply, drawing in the hint of pine and sulphur in the air.

He opened his eyes and caught Astrid's gaze, her expression drawn as she glanced at him from across the spring.

Perhaps, he'd get to see his mother after all.

* * *

**So...did I take you on an emotional roller coaster? Are you drowning in foreshadowing? This is definitely a milestone for Hiccup, as the truth of the matter finally rears its ugly head. **

**Please let me know what you think! During my internet-less nine days of horror, I wrote parts of some of the upcoming chapters and they are going to be so good! I already gave my beta a preview of what's to come (thank you Sir Nick!) and I think he was a little taken back at how dark it was.**

**I love angst! :D**

**Brontë**


	20. We Are Skuld II

For those of you who wondered what happened to me (especially you Lalala):

I did not die. I did, however, get hit by a car.

My arm is broken, as well as two of my ribs, which means that nearly this entire chapter was typed with one hand. That's what took so long, and I won't be out of a cast until around Halloween, so updates will be slow until I can use my left hand again.

The moral of this story is: don't text and run people over. More likely than not, someone like me will sue you so hard you'll have to get a second mortgage. I seriously look like I was thrown into a boxing ring with my hands tied behind my back, and it's been 13 days! It sucks and it honestly took all my willpower to write this. Reviews, or at least a get well wish, would make me feel better :)

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc III : We Are Skuld  
**_

**_Chapter II_**

* * *

Bandages in hand, Astrid leant over and started gingerly wrapping Hiccup's battered torso, struggling to be as gentle as she could. He hissed as she pulled the fabric all too forcefully against the scabby welts, scraping the sensitive skin mercilessly despite her efforts to be gentle. He pressed one of his hands on her arm to steady himself as she contorted her body around him in a formless hug, her chin resting on his shoulder as she continued to wind the dressing around him.

"Too tight?" she asked quietly, her voice gentle in his ear. She felt him nod against her, and she quickly released the tension on the bandage, to which he responded with a stifled groan. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips into a thin line, hating how she was hurting him without even trying. She didn't want him to suffer, and yet it kept on happening.

She fastened the end of the dressing securely and broke down, capturing him in an embrace. He was heavy in her arms as he returned the gesture, his bare shoulder pressing gently against the side of her cheek. He hadn't been as embarrassed when he had stepped out of the spring as he had when he had slunk in, although he still asked her to cover her eyes as he reapplied the prosthetic and pulled on his pants. The entire time, he had had the same countenance of carefully suppressed anxiety slathered all over his face, although it had changed back to blank calm once she removed her hand.

"Are you alright?" she asked, submitting as he pulled her closer to his injured chest.

"Yeah," he breathed into the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin. He wasn't really, and she knew it, but she let him get away with it anyway.

"Come on," she said, pulling away from him, "You'll catch a cold if you don't get some clothes on."

Throwing on the rest of his garments, Hiccup followed Astrid outside from the shadows of the cave. He fought the urge to block out the brightness of the sun with his forearm as he took in the vista around him, taking in each and every detail that he could. He felt the same red, hot emotion he had felt when he had left Berk all those many weeks ago. It was that foreign sensation of knowing exactly what he would be leaving behind forever, only this time there was nothing he could do about it. Before, he had had a choice; he didn't have to leave Berk, but he chose to anyway. And now…

Hiccup took a deep breath, memorizing the heavy scent of pine carrying on the soft wind. He tried to commit to memory the brilliance of the sparkling crystals hanging off of the trees and the feeling of the whisper of a breeze against his skin. He closed his eyes and threw his head backwards, pausing for a moment simply to soak in the warmth of the sun.

Astrid glanced at him sidelong, worry etched across her face. She tried to push the instinctual feelings of apprehension to the back of her mind, but the situation was feeling oddly similar to that fateful day back in the forge where this bad dream had all began. She quieted her anxieties for now, knowing that anything she said would only make the situation potentially worse, and tugged her eyes away.

They made their way back into the cave silently, parting ways as they reached the main cavern. Hiccup sat down by Toothless' flank and rested his back against the dragon's scales, staring absently into the embers of the fire. He could vaguely sense the Night Fury's simmering misgivings somewhere beside the hum of the snake's presence in the back of his mind, but he was more or less attempting to block it, if only for a few minutes. He needed a moment to think.

Over the past few weeks, Hiccup had garnered a few things about the serpent on his own. The connection had become more than just a headache, and it was obviously affecting his dreams. He tapped his fingers against his knee as he skimmed through the remnants of the nightmares he could remember, but for the most part, they were clouded by his own innate fear. Hiccup stopped drumming, and realised what Astrid had meant when she had told him to try and outsmart the snake.

What its true intentions were remained to be seen, but Hiccup knew that the snake was flogging him with frightening visions to scare him, at least in part. But there was so much to learn from them, so long as he could remember them clearly enough in the morning. He knew that the snake's mind was clouded by greed and desire, to the point of where it was obsessive. That was a major weakness that Hiccup supposed he could use against him; being the objects of its fixation, he and Toothless could distract the snake while Astrid swooped in and stabbed it with the sword.

Hiccup shook his head and drew his knees to his chest. The last thing he wanted was for Astrid to get herself into any more danger than she already was, despite the fact that she was probably more prepared for it than he would ever be. She was born and bred for battle whereas Hiccup was more of the cerebral type, and although they seemed to be polar opposites, he realised they were more similar than they initially appeared.

He glanced over to where she was sitting, plaintively sharpening the bowed edge of her axe against a whetstone with that kind of precision that used to give him goose bumps. She was hunched over, the weapon resting in her lap, but it was the firelight against her profile that truly drew his attention. The way the shadows flickered across her cheeks accentuated just how long her eyelashes feathered past her eyes. Her lips weren't pulled into a scowl like they usually were, but were instead relaxed and parted in absent concentration.

He blinked once and continued to gaze at her from afar, realizing that he'd never actually noticed all of these things about her before at once. Sure, he'd stared at her before; he had an entire notebook nearly filled with drawings of her, but that had always been for an ulterior motive. This time, it was just because there was nothing else left to do, and subconsciously he realized he didn't know how much time he'd have left.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, ignoring the prodding presence of a particular black dragon thrumming in his head like a war drum. He had to stop getting distracted; if he wanted to get Astrid and Toothless out of there alive, he knew he had some planning to do.

* * *

Plodding her way through the snow, Astrid hugged her arms closer to her body and sighed as she watched a cloud of breath dissipate into the afternoon air. She had desperately needed to get out of that cave and breathe in some fresh ocean air, if only to avoid Hiccup's continuous scrutiny. She clambered over a cluster of boulders and found herself on the edge of a precipice, gazing out into the more or less calm waters of the ocean.

She sat down and let her feet hang off of the edge, just dangling back and forth in the breeze. She gazed out towards the horizon and let her eyes wander, breathing deeply in an attempt to try and calm down and relax.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and started grumbling to herself.

It wasn't working.

Her constant companion landed somewhere behind her and quickly closed the distance between them, folding her wings and settling with a thud by her side. Astrid glanced up at the Nadder thoughtfully, and then hunched over with a heavy sigh.

"I didn't sign up for this."

The dragon harrumphed in obvious rebuttal.

"_We_ didn't sign up for this. Sorry."

Astrid tossed her bangs from her plane of vision, only for them to blow back onto her weatherworn complexion. She rubbed her eyes with her gloved hands and leant over in resignation, resting her forearms on her thighs.

"How did everything get so complicated? It wasn't supposed to be like this."

The dragon made no effort to respond and, annoyed slightly by the silence, she continued, "I was just supposed to find him, beat him up a little, and then drag him back home! I didn't ask for this…for him to be eaten by some giant, stupid snake. How did this even happen?" she tugged her hair and ground her teeth in frustration, glaring up at the unhampered skies, "Why does this always happen to me?"

She released her hair from her death grip and collapsed back into her previous position, stooped over and feeling even more miserable than she had before. The selfishness of her previous outburst didn't fail to sink in as soon as it had passed her lips; if anyone should be ready to tear their hair out, it should be Hiccup. Hiccup was the one who needed the support here.

…And yet, Astrid realized with a sigh, she couldn't bring herself to actually go back there and do it. She would stay out there for days if it meant being away from him and the stupid emotions he stirred up within her.

She buried her face in her hands and groaned again – selfish didn't even begin to cover it.

She was in love with him – she had already accepted that, loud and clear – but couldn't it just…go away now? Wasn't the first step to recovery when you admitted what was wrong? Love was a disease, and it was annoying her to the umpteenth degree. The sooner she got it out of her system, the quicker she could get on with more important things, like _survival_, for example.

Maybe kissing him would help…

"Ugh," she dragged her palms down her face and bowed her head in shame. This was _so_ stupid.

Something niggled at the back of her mind, telling her to get up and be proactive about the situation, but that cowardly side she had only recently discovered shortly before she had left her home for the unknown took over. It was being in the dark that she hated, being thrust into a situation that she just simply wasn't familiar with. Battles always ended the same way; flights always ended the same way, but this? Astrid wasn't sure how this was going to end, or even whether they'd make it out alive.

Astrid knew Hiccup was probably wracking his brains right now trying to think up a way to get them out of this; he was just that kind of guy. Always thinking, always studying, always the dreaming, intelligent one; they were quite similar in a way, so long as you ignored the obvious differences. He was a boy, she was a girl, brawn versus brains, upper class and middle class…

But they were both still kids.

Kids in a situation that was far bigger than either of them could have imagined when they first embarked on this journey.

They were in way over their heads, and they knew it. They just had to find a way out before they drowned.

Astrid pulled herself to her feet and brushed the snow from the backs of her leggings. She heaved a sigh and then slowly made her way back in the direction of the cave, leaving the Nadder alone to follow in her wake. It was only a matter of time before they would have to leave their refuge; the snake was obviously patient, but how long would it let its prey linger in plain sight? She knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was probably circling their little island right now, licking its chops in anticipation of its next glorious meal.

Astrid shivered and tugged her jacket closer to her body, fending off the sudden biting chill to the winter air. She glanced over her shoulder and expected to see a huge, leering snake spewing fire somewhere off in the distance, but nothing except the calm ocean filled her line of vision. Sighing, she turned back towards the inland, and continued to trudge towards the cave.

* * *

Toothless stretched his front legs out in front of him, rumbling deep in his chest as his back popped and released. He tugged himself to his feet and snorted a cloud of smoke from his nostrils, shaking out his back foot that had lost its circulation. It tingled uncomfortably as he hobbled over to the dying fire, the chill of the cave having already settled in his bones.

He let a burst of flames pass his lips and for a split second, the entire cave was bathed in an outburst of blue and purple light. The glow died down as quickly as if had come, however, and in its place was the gentle crackle of an auburn fire. Toothless heaved a sigh, and sat back down onto the stone floor.

Meanwhile, somewhere behind him Hiccup was bemoaning his own position of comfort, hissing as a series of phantom pains spasmed through his legs. It had been months since he had lost the offending appendage, and he had kind of been hoping that the ache in his non-existent limb would go away. Part of him knew he was only kidding himself; he'd been around Gobber long enough to know the signs that even he felt some level of anguish, so he supposed that he himself would never get used to it so long as he was still around.

And, once again, the theme of the day reared its ugly head in the middle of his inner monologue. He thought he had been doing a good job of ignoring the fact that he was basically doomed, but as usual, nothing ever stayed good for long. He could sense his mood deepening, but he honestly didn't feel like helping the situation; he wanted to stew, he wanted to sulk, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

"Hiccup?"

His concrete resolve shattered into a thousand pieces at the sound of her voice, quiet but no less destructive to his ruminations. He spotted her staring at him from behind the entrance wall of the cave, her expression barely discernable. They met each other's glances from across the expanse of space and held it for some time, just sharing an understanding of this whole exploit they had gotten themselves caught up in, and kind of regretting it.

After a while, she came over and sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. It wasn't something she usually would have done, but she was feeling impulsive.

"You alright?" she asked softly, staring down at their feet.

"Not really," he replied, his voice surprisingly passive. Astrid tried to relax.

She continued to stare.

"It's weird isn't it," she said finally, nudging her foot against his.

"What?" he responded.

"I don't know. This…" she gestured around her with her arms.

Hiccup wasn't quite following, "Being in a cave?"

"No. I mean like…being here with you."

"Oh."

"Well, not just that…" she started to elaborate, "I mean like, in this stupid situation."

"Huh."

Astrid closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose for the umpteenth time that day, "You know what I mean."

"Yeah."

Silence encompassed the cave for several minutes. Just having her beside him was lightening his mood in the same way her eyes seemed to radiate in the blush of the fire.

Astrid turned her head and glared up at him in suppressed annoyance, "Are you always going to do that?"

He ignored her stare, but she didn't miss the slight upturn of his lips as he continued to gaze into the fire, "Do what?"

She narrowed her eyes, but his mischievous smirk was contagious, "You know what."

"No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"_Yes_, you do!"

Hiccup finally met her eyes, his expression brimming with mirth; he was grinning, and in that moment, it was like nothing had ever changed.

"You're insufferable," she groused, punching him lightly in the arm.

"You're crazy," he shot back.

"I'm crazy?" she cried in mock outrage, "You're the crazy one."

"Maybe I just seem crazy because you're crazy."

"What?" she raised an incredulous brow, "How does that even make sense?"

"It makes perfect sense."

"No it doesn't."

"Yes it does."

"_No it doesn't!_"

"Yes it does! And do you want to know why?"

"Why?" she glowered, fists planted firmly on her hips.

"Because I said so."

"Ugh!" she rolled her eyes and threw her head back, reeling from his stupidity, "You are so immature."

"Yeah well –" he was going to accuse her of being 'such a girl', but he thought better of it at the last second, "Fine. But my dragon is faster than your dragon."

"Oh my gods," she rolled her eyes again, sighing loudly, "You can't seriously be bringing that up again."

"Why not?" he chirped, "It's true."

"Don't you remember what happened last time you said that?"

Hiccup snorted in amusement and followed her gaze over to where their two dragons were snoozing, thinking back to that time where the six teens had been arguing somewhere off of Baldur's Bluff, "I wonder if he's actually proud of those scars," Hiccup commented with a grimace.

Astrid made a noise of revulsion, "Trust me, he was. I lost count of how many times he asked me if I wanted to see them."

"He asked you if you wanted to see his butt!"

Hiccup's expression was a foreign mix of disgust and serious outrage, and it was just enough to make her laugh out loud, "Can we please stop talking about Snotlout's ass?" she asked, "Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up."

"Yeah," Hiccup trailed off, staring distantly at the wall beyond the fire like he wanted to strangle it with his bare hands.

"Look," Astrid said, discerning all of his warning signs, "Snotlout's disgusting. So don't get all angry about it. It doesn't suit you."

"I'm not angry," he replied in a huff, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

She sighed, "Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

Astrid groaned, the redundancy of their argument making her smile, if only slightly, "Is it always going to be like this?"

He didn't answer her for the longest time, but his expression spoke wonders. A thousand thoughts were running through his mind all at once as his fingers inched over to hers, tips brushing slightly, just enough to make her shudder.

"Yeah. I think so."

Astrid smiled fully this time, and shimmied nearer to close the gap between them. She tangled her fingers with his as she rested her cheek against his shoulder again, "Good. I'd like that."

She felt him laughing before she heard it, and she lifted her head up to get a better look at the grin gracing his features.

"You sound like Ruffnut," he said between guffaws, and Astrid smacked him in mock outrage before dissolving into peals of laughter. He clutched his stomach as their chuckles continued long into the evening until the darkness of the cavern had all but disappeared.

For now, they were just a boy and a girl, just Hiccup and Astrid. Right then, the rest of the world had been forgotten, and for just a moment, both of them were free.

* * *

Short, but have sympathy. I did this with one hand. And my ribs are killing me.

Also, I made a reference to one of my favourite stories on this fandom, which is funny because last chapter I also made a reference to another one of my favourite stories. And in the first half of arc 2 I made a reference to my favourite movie, which I saw the other day in theatres again! So basically, I am the reference lady. Lol.

Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Because I'm sad. And I look like I went through a windshield. Go figure.

Brontë


	21. We Are Skuld III

Thanks for all of the well wishes - I appreciated it immensely! I'm getting a new cast next week so I'll be able to type a little easier, which means faster updates! Thank you with being patient with me - I'm trying my best. :)

Also, 300 review kiriban is almost here! More details at the end of this chapter!

Finally, no more playing around! The action is about to begin!

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc III : We Are Skuld  
**_

**_Chapter III_**

* * *

Hiccup breathed in deeply, staring at nothing in particular. He let his hands hang loosely at his sides as he stepped closer to the brink of a cliff some hundreds of feet above the crashing tides. The harsh winds tousled his auburn hair, forcing it to fall into his eyes; his outermost layer billowed out in a particularly abrasive squall. The salt stung his skin.

His eyes were trained on the horizon, watching from the highest point of the island. The clouds were churning dangerously, as if the weather was reflecting his innermost thoughts. He smiled bitterly, realizing that there was a word for that kind of thing, and that Fishlegs would have let him know what it was had he been around to tell it.

He brushed his bangs away from his eyes with a wave of his hand, only for them to fall back into his face again. He pursed his lips and, recognizing a fruitless venture when he saw one, closed his eyes to provoke some sort of patience from within him. He was exhausted – no thanks to his newfound status as a play toy – especially since the snake had thought it prudent to continuously wake him up at all hours of the evening. Sure, he supposed he had gained a great deal of knowledge concerning the snake from the reoccurring images splattered all throughout his dreams and nightmares, but it had been at the price of his sanity. How was he supposed to face this creature without any sleep?

He felt the heavy weight of his companion at his side and his question was nearly answered immediately. Hiccup nodded in agreement as the response became obvious; they couldn't think properly if they were both thoroughly exhausted, dulling their only asset in what would most likely be a one sided fight. Hiccup sighed but resisted the urge to slump, unwilling to look quite as defeated as he felt.

Surely there had to be some hope left.

There was no beam of sunlight that shone down from the heights of Valhalla. There were no signs. Just the sounds of the tumultuous ocean filled his ears as he closed his eyes again for the umpteenth, accepting what would inevitably become of him. A flash of a foreign memory sung through his mind as Hiccup took a deep breath; the image was faded from the passage of time, but the subjects of the memory were obvious.

Hiccup had often wondered as to his companion's past, but, having no other way to communicate with Toothless except through body language, he had never been able to ask. He didn't want to pry, but he wasn't able to stop the errant thought in time before he felt the dragon stiffen beside him.

Toothless stalked away before his hatchling could even consider continuing their conversation, if you could even call it that. He settled a few hundred paces away and sat back down on his haunches, glaring moodily down at the frothing whitecaps as they sprayed against the rocky sediments by the shore. The clarity of the situation was making it harder for him to accept the truth; he'd likely never see his brethren again and even though he had left them long ago, he had still always held a belief that some time before he passed on, he would find them again.

He'd never felt so restricted, so predictable.

So vulnerable.

Toothless couldn't ignore the call any longer, and made eye contact with his hatchling from across the snowy rock face. He didn't ask any questions, but something told him that the young human had already gathered his answers.

Minutes passed in silence. The thundering breakers against the side of the precipice was the only thing that accompanied the drone of their respective inner soliloquies until the tell-tale sounds of footsteps crunching through the snow alerted them of a third and fourth party. Astrid came up beside Hiccup as her Nadder made her way towards Toothless, shaking the snow from her wings in an attempt to get her blood circulating.

Astrid brushed her shoulder against his as she stood along the edge next to him, following his gaze. A storm was coming, and she had a feeling that she was standing on the brink of it.

"What's the plan?"

Hiccup shrugged his shoulders in what could have been mistaken as a sigh, his gaze still trained on the tumultuous horizon, "Still working on it."

Astrid pursed her lips, but didn't offer a retort. As much as she was yearning for a confrontation – if only to release some of her pent up tension – this wasn't the time or the venue to do it, "Well…let's brainstorm then," she tapped her gloved fingers against her chin, "Sometime before that snake tried to eat us, I remember seeing a volcano island on the Southern horizon."

"So do I actually. It kind of looked like the Nest."

"Yeah, that one," she dropped her hand from her face and started fiddling idly with the belt around her waist, "It would be as good a place as any from a defense standpoint. The higher we are away from it, the more chance we have of defeating it."

Hiccup noddle solemnly, mashing his lips together in a somewhat obvious attempt to silence what had crossed his mind at her words. Astrid noticed this of course, but patiently chose to ignore it.

"It's at least two hours south east of here, so as long as we stay as high in the sky as we can, we'll make it. We've been lucky so far."

"I think lucky is a strong word for it," Hiccup countered flatly, throwing her a look that spoke volumes. Astrid parted her lips in reply, but realized that she had absolutely nothing to say in rebuttal.

"Anyway," she muttered, changing the subject quickly, "Point is, we'll get there and we'll make camp near the top until something happens."

"And what if it never shows up?" Hiccup asked, his voice taking on some of the anxious rage welling up inside of him, "Live at the top of a possibly volatile volcano for a month?"

"You and I both know that's not going to happen," she rebuked, crossing her arms over her chest, "Either way, there's got to be a way to draw him out. You keep complaining about your snake-induced headache – is there any way you can think of something and maybe the snake will hear it?"

Hiccup's expression was thoughtful for a moment as he mulled her suggestion over, "I never thought about it before. It's a longshot, but..."

With the nightmares from the night previous still fresh in his mind, Hiccup sat down on top of a boulder a few paces away and rested his chin in his hands, staring out into space. He focused on an image and watched as Toothless immediately looked his way from across the expanse, his expression questioning. Hiccup smiled slightly in triumph as his realization came into context; if he thought hard enough, perhaps he could relay a message to the snake in the same way he had just done with Toothless. He'd been doing it unconsciously for days now without truly realizing the potential it could have.

And he knew exactly what to use as bait.

* * *

The way the wind whistled through the shards of obsidian like a moaning draugr was setting Hiccup's teeth on edge. The whole vista was unnerving, and Hiccup hugged his arms close to his body in order to try and stave off the cold that wouldn't go away.

They had landed on a small plane on the upper regions of the volcano, clasped close to the grade by the surrounding rocks that reminded Toothless of teeth. A wave of unwelcome nostalgia washed over him as a flashback of the Red Death appeared in his mind, and he turned himself away from the edge before it got any worse.

Astrid put her arm loosely around one of the splinters of stone and scanned the horizon in anticipation. Hiccup may not have noticed the obvious disturbances in the water during their voyage to the volcano, but she had. Jormungand, as she had finally decided to call him in her head, had followed them all the way to their current spot of refuge. She clenched her fingers as she resigned herself to the fact that she was now an indisposed player in their waiting game, and she tried not to think about it.

She glanced over her shoulder to where Hiccup was sitting, fiddling mindlessly with one of the springs on his prosthetic. She was surprised that he was even acknowledging the device in her presence, considering his predisposition to pretending that it wasn't even there. But, she supposed, perhaps he had gotten over his hatred for the "battle scar", especially after her lecture however long it was ago. Honestly, she was starting to lose track of the days.

He caught her eyes from across the small ledge and stopped fidgeting for a moment, before looking away again and resuming his impatient squirming. Astrid let out a small burst of breath and walked over to join him, sitting down beside him a few inches away.

"He's around here somewhere…" Hiccup mumbled absentmindedly, tangling his glove in one of the tightly knit springs and gently pulling the fabric back out.

"You noticed then," she replied quietly, watching him play with the metal appendage.

"Of course I did," he muttered in reply, "Kind of hard to miss it when it's practically breathing down your neck."

Astrid wanted to point out the biting sting to his tone of voice, but realized that he needed to get his aggression out somehow. She was willing to be his scapegoat to an extent, so long as he didn't get too out of hand.

"Has it said anything yet?" she asked tentatively, unsure of how to handle such a ridiculous question. She would never have believed that he was hearing voices in his head at first, but seeing the consequences first hand shortly after she had caught up with him had changed her outlook significantly.

"Trust me," he grunted, "You'd know."

They dissolved into silence for a while, and Astrid alternated between scrutinizing Hiccup from the corner of her eye, and watching Toothless pace back and forth. Her Nadder was somewhere at the base of the volcano fishing for her dinner, but she kind of hoped that she would gather some fish for Toothless too. He was looking worse for wear, but then again, so was his rider.

The sky was covered in a canopy of clouds, but it was getting dark, so Astrid safely assumed that dusk had just about fallen. She stood up and started to unravel her sleeping gear in the most sheltered part of the shelf, nibbling on some dried meat as she did so. It disturbed her that she wasn't as hungry as she usually would be in a normal situation; she could see her ribs easily through her skin, but at least she wasn't consuming her food at a normal rate.

There would be just enough left for the voyage home.

She walked back over to Hiccup and took his gloved hand in hers, pulling him up onto his feet, "Come on. You have to get some sleep."

Hiccup nodded in reply and allowed her to lead him over to where she had set up her own camp. He started pulling out his own sleeping bag as if he were in a trance, and laid it down beside her. He stripped off his boot and crawled in, watching blankly as Astrid mirrored his movements and buried her face into the skins. She was asleep within minutes, but sleep was fleeting for him.

He watched her abdomen rise and fall, drinking in as much of the image as he could. Considering the series of events that was pressing on him, just waiting for him to crack, he figured he could be allowed that one small reprieve. He had wanted to show her just how much she meant to him – the company, and the constancy, the reliability – but he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. She shifted in her sleep, her lips parting as she took a shaky breath. Gods, he wanted to kiss her.

He hoisted himself onto his elbow and leant over, his bangs just brushing her forehead, and lightly pressed his lips to hers. Then, with one last sad smile, he collapsed again on his own set of furs and resigned himself to what he had to do, once and for all.

* * *

His eyes snapped open, interrupted part way through his repetitive dreams by the pattering of loose stones falling down around him. A small pebble hit him in the forehead as he pushed himself upright; his heart thumped against his chest, shrill and bruising.

"Astrid," he hissed, squinting against the pitch black of night in the direction where he assumed she was, "Astrid!"

"What the Hel is going on?" he heard her murmur, and seconds later he felt her gloved hand against his shoulder. Blindly, he reached around and placed his hand on her waist so that they were both standing side by side, sightless to the world in front of them.

"I don't know," he whispered. His grip on her tightened as the shaking continued to exacerbate, and larger pieces of rock started to tumble down around them. She tugged them backwards so that they were more or less sheltered against the wall of the shelf, but if the earthquake endured…

"Where are the dragons?" Astrid had to raise her voice over the creaking of the rocks.

Hiccup closed his eyes for a moment, "They're fine. They're hovering just off of the ledge."

Astrid was confused, "But—"

"She's got him by the leg," Hiccup smirked, sensing the Night Fury's mortification, "She yanked him off just in time."

He could hear the mirth in her voice, "Poor guy."

The tremor that nearly threw them off of their feet quickly put an end to their amusement, and Astrid wrapped both of her arms around the boy beside her to keep him from losing his footing. The prosthetic creaked as it caught an awkward angle, but the noise went unheard as Hiccup's heart throbbed even louder in his ears, amplified by the combination of the danger and the two arms wrapped around his torso.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her lips grazing the tip of his ear. He fought to catch his balance as another quake seized the volcano.

"Yeah," he breathed, planting his prosthetic into a crack in the stone, "What's going on?"

"I don't know. It just started out of the blue," she was silent for a beat, "Do you think it's…"

"Yeah." A pause, "He's here."

The finality in his voice clenched something inside of her. She turned her head suddenly and buried her face in the crook of his neck, "Are you sure?"

Her body was a terse line against him, hard and unyielding and the lack of vision wasn't helping. Astrid hated being in the dark figuratively, but she was beginning to think that being surrounded in darkness literally was far worse.

"I'm sure," he murmured, squeezing her hand reassuringly, hoping that it would take away some of her obvious worry. She scanned the skies blindly above her, searching for any sign of light from the moon, but there was nothing there, nothing to help her see something, anything.

The ground quavered violently and this time it was Hiccup who kept Astrid on her feet, having had wedged his prosthetic solidly in the ground. He pushed her against his chest as they waited the seism out.

"The seas are churning," he said quietly, trying to gather from Toothless what little the dragon could see, "Whatever's causing this, it's below the ocean."

"You don't think—"

"What else could it be?"

They were thrown to the left, hard enough that even Hiccup was uprooted and smashed into the rocks. He absorbed most of the blow, having had landed with Astrid on top of him, and he groaned as his grip on her waist loosened.

"Are you alright?" she asked frantically, searching with her hands until she found his face. She braced herself with one hand and felt around with her other, finally finding his cheek and resting her palm there.

"Yeah, I'm good," he replied with a grunt, bending his arm at the elbow to reassure himself that it wasn't injured. He slowly propped himself up on his forearm so as to not knock foreheads with Astrid, and found her waist with his other arm, "You?"

"Yeah," she whispered, both relieved and worried at the same time as the tremors began to slow. She shifted off of him so that they were sitting beside each other, "Why is it attacking now?" she thought out loud.

"Well for one, we're blind. Its vision is probably terrible since it's a sea creature."

"Makes sense," she muttered, glancing around her. Things had suddenly become deathly quiet.

"That, and I was trying to provoke it."

Astrid snapped her head towards him, "What? How?"

"You told me to try and outsmart it," Hiccup explained quietly, "So that's what I tried to do."

"By making it mad?" she hissed, clenching her hand painfully around his.

"Not mad – I was trying it inflate its ego."

"What? That doesn't even make sense!"

"Yes it does; listen to me. It's so egotistical – it's never been beat! So I focused my dreams on giving up to it, and I think that's why it's so excited. If it's distracted enough by its big head, then maybe – just _maybe_ – you might get out of this alive."

"What do you mean, I'll get out of this alive?" her voice was on the verge of hysterics. His plan made perfect sense, but the only thing she could focus on was his last words and the way he had said them, as if he had already accepted it.

"You don't honestly think we're both going to make it out of this do you?"

"What? Of course I do!"

She heard him sigh beside her, "Astrid…you've got to think this through."

"No! Listen to me—"

"Astrid," he cut her off tersely, "Calm down please, and for just one second, listen to me. The only way we're going to beat this is if you trust me. Can you do that?"

Astrid was about to open her mouth and offer a vicious retort, but she realized that dawn was coming. It was still almost pitch black, but just that little speck of lightness in all of that darkness was enough to calm her quailing heart for the moment and she swallowed her frightened pride.

It was enough to give her hope.

"Yes," she replied shakily.

"I have a plan, but I can't do it without you," he continued softly, "You're going to have to trust me."

"I'll…" she trailed off, the images of the aftermath of the Red Death skittering through her mind, "I'll try my best."

"That's all I ask."

The darkness was slowly fading, and within a few minutes Astrid was able to barely make out the distinction between the rock face and the sky. She turned towards Hiccup and could only just picture the upturned tip of his nose, the pressed line of his lips. He was so rigid, practically frozen at her side.

It was as if the only thing holding him together…was hope.

He could feel her gaze on him and turned, capturing her lips without even thinking about it, crushing her body to his. She was stunned for a moment, but quickly returned the gesture eagerly, burying her fingers in his hair and tugging at the strands. He kissed her almost frantically, engorging his every sense with her as if she were already fleeting, already lost to him.

She pulled back for a moment, pressing her forehead to his as she took a harrowing breath. Then she kissed him again, eyes squeezed shut to keep her tears from falling. She tried to keep it together, she really did, but everything was suddenly becoming so overwhelming. The crushing oppression of the dark combined with the strain and pressure of knowing that they were pretty much flying to their respective deaths, even if she didn't want to admit it. She knew Hiccup had – it was evident in his raw emotions as he clutched her as close to him as he could. She just didn't want it to be true, it was catching up, everything was catching up to her all at once, and she was starting to crumble again, the façade was breaking, falling, shattering, dissolving in his arms…

The world tilted on its axis, and they broke apart with matching cries, scrabbling to catch their balance. Toothless and her Nadder shrieked in tandem as the volcano began to keel over, its base destroyed deep in the depths of the ocean. Hiccup snatched his sword from beside his bedding and grabbed Astrid's hand, making a run for it to the edge of the shelf. They stopped at the very brink and grappled for their footing, panicking as they tried to time their jump.

"Go go go!" Hiccup cried, leaping off of the ledge. Astrid followed suite with a scream and managed to land on the base of the Nadder's neck, wrapping her hands and feet around her to keep from falling off. Hiccup landed similarly near the blue dragon's rear and clambered to stay on, sliding up towards the saddle for something to hold onto. Toothless roared as Hiccup leapt down onto the Night Fury's back, just barely holding on, and strapped himself onto the seat as fast as his fingers could manage. He clipped his prosthetic into the stirrup and the Nadder let go of the ebony dragon's foreleg, allowing Toothless and Hiccup to hover on their own.

They watched as the volcano collapsed at the base, crumbling like a watchtower set aflame by a neighbouring tribe. All of their items, their sleeping equipment, their food…everything fell with it as the mountain capsized into the ocean, creating a huge tidal wave in its wake. The two dragons and their riders raced upwards to keep from drowning in the huge splash, and were able to evade it for the most part. Astrid and the Nadder, being the slowest of the pair, got the brunt of it.

They hovered some hundreds of feet above the thrashing ocean, watching the aftermath with matching expressions of dread. The seas tossed and writhed as the fallen volcano wreaked havoc on the waves, sloshing unnaturally high. Hiccup swallowed as the light of dawn began to lessen the monochromatic vista, washing everything in sight in a wash of grey. He rammed his eyes closed and bored down as the buzz in his mind grew into a catastrophic dissonance so loud he could have sworn the whole world around him was shaking, throbbing, pulsating.

There was a booming eruption as something burst from the confines of the ocean, and Hiccup didn't have to open his eyes to know what had happened next.

* * *

"I'll write you a oneshot" Kiriban! The 300th reviewer must a) have an account and b) write a legitimate review. If the 300th reviewer is one of those two things, I'll move to the next reviewer. You give me three plot bunnies, and I'll chose one and write it. :) I'm due for a oneshot anyway - all this novella stuff is hard!

Please leave me a review! I'd love to hear from you! I also love my reviewers - you guys are the best!

Thanks Sir Nick!

Brontë


	22. We Are Skuld IV

I apologize for the lateness of this chapter! It's actually been done for about a week and a half, but my beta has been MIA and, in a fit of desperation, I called upon the darling Leon Woon to step in and give it the look over it desperately needed. So thank him for this update :)

I tried my best, but action isn't my strong suit when it comes to writing. Nonetheless, here is the final battle where I finally get to debut my favourite character, Jormungand himself.

Also, I apologize if I give you nightmares with this opening passage ;)

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc III : We Are Skuld  
**_

**_Chapter IV  
_**

* * *

Like a huge, massive column spilling from the very depths of the ocean he appeared, dark and deadly and swathed in layers of mist and cloud. Venom spewed from his bared fangs, dripping and oozing with poison that steamed as it made contact with the churning seas below him. Acrid fumes boiled upwards from the crashing waves and merged from the vapours pouring from the snake's nostrils, forming a noxious haze that enveloped the entire region around him. His mouth was open and his forked tongue lolled from his cavernous maw in anticipation for his next meal, his next delicious feast.

And the filthy creatures hovering before him…

_Disgusting_. He lolled his head sideways and bared his teeth further, taking sinful pleasure in the motion as his nefarious intentions were finally unleashed. Had his play toy finally given up on the chase? He grinned, fully anticipating on slowly sucking the life from his prey and the filthy winged creature with the hairless morsel on its back that they had so thoughtfully brought along with them as an appetizer. He intended on devouring them slowly, letting his deadly venom fill their bodies and liquefying them from the inside out; better to dine on scales that were already supple.

He would spit out their bones.

They would be divine.

Too long had he hunted them and too long had he kept himself invisible, the true hunter in their twisted game of hide and seek. He couldn't wait to finally taste his victory; he could literally smell the fear wafting off of the hairless humans sitting on top of their insects' backs. He mused for a moment, realizing that he hadn't tasted human in decades – it was an acquired taste certainly, but it was one he would definitely enjoy none the less.

He breathed out and hissed, and the noise caused waves of foam to fly off of the churning sea into the miasma around him. He writhed in sickening indulgence as the two little morsels flew away, stopping only to hover a great deal from the huge snake's titanic jaws; little did the flapping pests know just how quickly he could close the gap between them and swallow them whole.

But this was no time to be hasty. He had been here since the very makings of the world. Time was nothing to him.

He let out another hiss and tasted the air with his tongue, mocking his prey with glee. His prizes, the little human and the black insect, tried to reply in kind but the dragon's pitiful growl was barely audible against the snake's magnificent presence. There was no denying his majesty; he was glorious, brilliant! He was the bane of all existence, the very descendent of Nidhogg himself. He was the Ragnorok. He was the apocalypse.

He was King!

* * *

Half awestruck and half frozen in his saddle, Hiccup stared up at the towering sea serpent in all of its horrifying glory. Its mouth was practically frothing with elation as it continued its exchange with Toothless, hissing heinously in a way that he could and yet couldn't understand. The Night Fury beneath him tried to retaliate and put up a front of confidence, but the serpent could see how the dragon quivered in half hidden panic. Hiccup tried to pacify the Night Fury beneath him but could not find it within himself to move from his petrified position, his mouth agape with terror despite the spray of sea foam that soaked him to the core.

The serpent spoke again, and even though his body was frozen, Hiccup's mind was sprinting. He slammed his eyes shut and tried to think of something, of anything that could possibly be of help to him at that moment. He had a sword. Good. He had to get above its head without it noticing, and then stab it. Okay. But how? Without being eaten? Was that even possible?

Hiccup opened his eyes as Toothless banked left, narrowly avoiding a torrent of acidic poison that had been spurting towards them. Hiccup twisted the stirrup to compensate and whipped around in a tight circle before racing upwards as fast as they could.

"What did you do?" Hiccup shrieked, pressing his body as close to Toothless as possible. The dragon screeched indignantly in reply, hurling back his own flurry of insults in rebuttal. Apparently, the serpent hadn't been particularly amused by the Night Fury's acerbic brand of sass and had evidently strived to silence him.

"Odin's beard," Hiccup muttered, swallowing the rush of adrenaline that was threatening to overtake his attempt at keeping a cool head. They levelled just before the first layers of low hanging clouds and took a moment to catch their breaths as Hiccup peered over his shoulder at the scene down below him.

Astrid was doing her very best to stay out of the serpent's homicidal path, but her Nadder was far less adept at dexterous flying than Jormungand's previous targets had been; now that Hiccup and Toothless were out of harm's way for the moment, the snake had taken interest in the female duo.

Astrid cried out as the sea snake lowered its head to strike at her, forcing her Nadder to careen out of the way and dip closer to the surface of the ocean. In the back of her mind Astrid knew that this was dangerous territory, and that veering too close to the whitecaps would inevitably end up drowning them, but presently her only option in order to save herself and her dragon was to weave through the sea stacks as fast as she could and hope that Jormungand's body wasn't waiting beneath the water to knock them out of the sky.

Her Nadder swooped low and landed deftly on one of the columns of rock, taking only a second to catch her balance. She leapt onto an adjacent stack as quickly as she could before bounding onto another, keeping time in a peculiar dance that left the serpent growing more and more irritated. He lunged forward at the blue and yellow beetle only for the pest to leap away and take to the skies, finally able to escape the ocean spray thanks to the serpent's momentary distraction.

Jormungand hissed in frustration and spewed a deadly stream of poison from his maw towards his retreating meal. Droplets of the venom splattered onto Astrid and her Nadder, sending the latter into throbbing spasms of pain mid-flight. Astrid did all that she could to hold onto the howling dragon as she tossed back and forth in the skies, trying in vain to fly higher and get away as the acid continued to burn through her scales. The light mist coming from the clouds did little to soothe the blisters as they corroded deeper into her flesh, but it did stop the poison from spreading any farther.

Astrid didn't have time to notice the acid slowly eating through the layers of her clothing as Hiccup dived down beside the pair, his eyes wide as he wracked his brain for something to do to help. Toothless tried to comfort the crying dragon, but his efforts were quickly cut short when Jormungand attacked again.

Hiccup clawed at his ears as the serpent's guttural scream reverberated through his bones, clacking his teeth together from the sheer power of it. Toothless wailed and Hiccup threw himself over the Night Fury's forehead, clamping the dragon's ear flaps down with his elbows. A wordless cry of thanks was exchanged between the two as Astrid and her Nadder continued to drop in altitude, spiralling downwards towards the surface of the ocean yet again. Hiccup watched helplessly as the pair fell into the haze, disappearing from his sight before he could do anything about it.

"Astrid!" Hiccup bellowed, taking his hands off of his ears against his better judgement. He felt his ear drums pop painfully as the shriek assaulted him in its entirety, but his concern for Astrid was waging war against his common sense. Fighting the urge to force Toothless to go after her, he watched in wide-eyed trepidation at the spot where she had disappeared and waited for the serpent's wailing to cease.

Jormungand finally closed his gaping maw, still furious at the little beetle for evading him. He rocked his gigantic body and hastily wound himself up into a coil, priming himself to strike. He had forgotten just how irritating these miniscule creatures could be, especially such diminutive and vexing ones. Such insects were usually nothing to him, but these two were simply too fascinating to discount…

A foreign image flashed through the sea serpent's mind, and the ancient creature gazed upwards eagerly to see the victims of his hunt staring down in horror. Jormungand grinned, fangs glinting lazily in the morning dimness; if those other two pests were such valuable possessions to his prey, he would take even greater pleasure in devouring them as his first course.

Hiccup's headache throbbed with a vengeance unexpectedly, and he seized his head in an attempt to soothe the sting; he faltered, eyes wide as he quickly realizing without a shadow of a doubt as to what had just transpired. In his lapse of judgement he had just exposed his biggest weakness to his enemy – he choked on his own breath, immobilized with dread. He hadn't even been trying to shield his mind from the beast, and now Astrid was in even more danger because of it. Wasn't he supposed to be trying to save her?

"Astrid!" he yelled aloud again, but the only response he received was the echoes of the waves crashing aggressively against the remnants of the volcano.

At once, the bedraggled pair dove down into the depths of the fog after Astrid and her Nadder, hoping to beat Jormungand at his own game and find them first. Forcing himself to focus as they descended, Hiccup went over their various advantages and disadvantages hurriedly in some desperate attempt to try and find something that would give them the upper edge. He left the flying to Toothless and only reacted instinctively to his movements, no thanks to their snake induced connection.

Hiccup wasn't necessarily a genius when it came to animals – that was usually where Fishlegs came into the equation. However, he did know that sea creatures had terrible eyesight, and he knew he could use that to his benefit. On the flipside however, he knew that their senses of smell and hearing were usually remarkable, and there would be no way of getting around it; there would be no sneaking up on the serpent, unless…

Astrid's scream rung out through the air like a beacon in the bleakness, effectively piercing through Hiccup's train of thought. His mind blanked as he flattened his body to Toothless' neck for extra speed, hoping desperately to try and intercept Jormungand before the serpent got to them first, if it hadn't already.

His hopes were raised as he spotted the creature's giant head bobbing through the murky waters out of the corner of his eye, and the pair rapidly changed directions. He knew he was being foolish for thinking that he could attack it now, knowing well enough that it would hear them long before they got anywhere close, but if they could distract it just long enough, perhaps it would give Astrid and her Nadder a better chance to escape.

Toothless dodged the serpent's gigantic jaws easily as the ragtag pair swerved down the length of its upper neck, landing deftly between the cracks of its huge scales. The Night Fury clambered upwards, irritating the snake as Toothless' claws tickled his skin before landing a volley of cyan blasts on the upper right side of the serpent's barnacle embedded forehead. Jormungand shrieked in annoyance and tossed his head violently, throwing Toothless and Hiccup off of him and back into the fog. Hiccup assisted in balancing themselves in the air just as they missed a series of sea stacks by a breath, and they quickly executed a hairpin turn before tearing back towards the serpent yet again.

The two of them didn't dare perform the same manoeuvre for a second time as they steered over top of the snake's massive body. Jormungand snapped his jaws when they swooped too close but didn't blatantly attack otherwise, which had Hiccup worrying for Astrid's safety all the more.

Suddenly, and without warning, the colossal serpent took off like a shot and even Toothless had trouble trying to keep up with it. The speed in which the sea creature could move out of nowhere worried Hiccup for about an instant before the all-out panic kicked it and took over his practicality. He had sworn up and down to keep her safe, even if it meant throwing himself into harm's way to do so, and the harrowing realization that she was about to be devoured like an appetizer turned his body into ice.

Toothless rocked violently, and the faint impressions of stubborn courage slapped him out of his self-induced emotional coma in a rush of vertigo and common sense. Hiccup forced himself to focus – he was letting his emotions consume him once again.

Toothless followed the snake as fast as he could manage, but his exhaustion was beginning to get the best of him. Vaguely, he wondered what would happen when his body ran out of adrenaline – he was already having a hard enough time trying to keep up his energy after wasting his fire trying to distract the sea serpent. It had been a spur of the moment thing, and he inwardly chastised himself for the impulsive action; if they were going to get out of this alive, he'd have to start thinking more clearly.

Toothless shook for a second time, jolting his rider into focusing yet again; the hatchling's almost constant string of morbid thoughts wasn't helping his already crumbling concentration.

Jormungand roared boisterously, and Hiccup just knew that the snake had found them. Twitching his foot instinctively, Hiccup took the lead as the pair barrel rolled over top of the serpent's coils, narrowly avoiding one of the towering spikes lining the creature's back. Toothless righted himself just as the back of Jormungand's head came into focus, and he had to make a careening twist in order to avoid the serpent's huge fins on its head.

Astrid's Nadder had just fired a torrent of spikes at the snake from the top of a sea stack as Toothless came around, but the Night Fury wasn't able to do anything as a loop of Jormungand's serpentine body destroyed the rock tower from its base, sending the female pair tumbling out of control. With difficulty, the blue and yellow dragon managed to pull herself back into the air before hitting the whitecaps, but at the expense of a great deal of energy. Exhausted from the overexertion, she was unable to get out of the way before she was hit yet again with Jormungand's colossal form, breaking her.

Time paused for a moment. Hiccup reached out towards her, but there was nothing to grasp.

There was no life that flashed before her eyes; all Astrid could see was the sky above her, and she took that as a sign as she plunged through the air towards the ocean, voiceless and blank. Her mind was a muddled mess of fear and sensation as the venom continued to burn into her arm, having had eaten away the portions of her coat and underclothes only moments before. Her face felt warm as the wound from where the serpent's obsidian-sharp scales had sliced her open. She felt weightless.

Hiccup cried out, but the noise was drowned out by the stone column crashing into the frothing waves. His outreaching hand was frozen in place. He didn't see where she had fallen.

Vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind, something clicked.

He felt it immediately, as if it were purely physical; his eyes narrowed, his stare no longer tainted with the tendrils of emotion. He clenched his fists. He could hear everything, sense everything, _feel _everything. His body shook with it, that long, long repressed Viking gene, smothered and squelched in the deepest recesses of his heart since he was merely a child – his blood boiled with it.

Toothless turned his head around, eyes wide and questioning. He hesitated as Hiccup wrenched the pedal for the dragon to dive downwards, but the empty look of rage his hatchling gave him convinced him quickly to comply.

Their journey was cut short however, as Jormungand's gaping maw intercepted their downward path, forcing the pair to skid in another direction to avoid being eaten alive. The serpent guffawed as it blocked their passage once more, toying with the two gnats as if they were playthings. It was captivated by the waves of ire coming from the human as the duo narrowly avoided colliding with his fangs; never had he felt an emotion that strong emanate from such a little, filthy creature. He had hunted humans before, and knew that they were more or less capable of being marginally sentient, but this was something entirely different from what he had ever experienced before.

Hiccup snarled and led Toothless into a back dive, spiralling downwards before banking left suddenly and soaring past the serpent's forehead. The only thing that was running through his mind was killing this thing – with his bare hands if he had to – and then finding Astrid. It didn't register to him that she could have been injured, or dead for that matter; his good judgment had all but turned into tunnel vision as he cursed the creature to happily burn in Hel, goading Toothless into firing into one of its iridescent eyeballs for good measure.

Jormungand screamed in anguish as the Night Fury's flame detonated with perfect aim, searing his socket and leaving him completely blind on the left side of his face. His astonishment melted away as his own furious vanity took over, impeaching him with sightless rage. The sea creature tossed his head viciously and released his fiercest battle cry, no longer willing to toy with his long overdue meal.

Meanwhile, Toothless and Hiccup had nosedived down towards the surface of the ocean, and although his throttling fog of aggression had lessened somewhat, Hiccup's soul still boiled with indignation. Desperately, his eyes frantically scanned the waves in search of her body or the body of her Nadder, but found nothing.

The white hot anguish he had all but been consumed with turned to ice in the pit of his stomach – what if she had drowned?

The hairs of the back of his neck rose in tandem as a hiss filled the air, forcefully oscillating everything around him; the air practically shook with the profoundness of it as Toothless and Hiccup slowly turned around. They couldn't control their shudders as the hissing grew louder, and the great snake rose from the depths of the ocean – seemingly endlessly – until it came to rest, convoluted in a gigantic winding coil. Its forked tongue undulated to the throbbing tone of its jeer and its remaining eye was now constricted into an unblinking slit. Without warning it went to strike, barely missing Toothless and Hiccup in its monstrous, noxious jaw.

Blind panic started to take the place of Hiccup's fury all over again as Toothless flew into a sharp incline, skittering through the snake's gaping mouth and soaring over the creature's brow. Jormungand threw his head around and didn't miss this time, grazing the flying pair just hard enough to send them careening out of control. Toothless and Hiccup managed to manipulate themselves back into balance just quickly enough for them to dodge another attack, sending them plunging back down towards the seas.

Hiccup looked down and saw that Toothless was bleeding, though not enough to truly impinge on them. He himself was losing blood, his coat having been shredded by the snake's razor sharp plates when they had collided with each other; but he could barely feel the pain, whether by an over indulgence of adrenaline or the cold, he couldn't tell. They dodged its huge coils yet again as the snake tried to crash into the pair with its body in the same way it had downed Astrid, but Toothless was proving to be far more agile than the ancient serpent took him for.

Toothless spun around and took another shot at Jormungand's face, but the ball of fire just missed the snake's scaly temple. The serpent took off after the two of them furiously, so outraged by the fact that they had already bested him once that he didn't notice the prickling feeling on a part of his lower body that was wrapped around what remained of the volcano he had downed earlier before it was too late.

Bedraggled, soaked and gasping for breath, Astrid sank the blade of her axe into one of the larger fissures in between Jormungand's huge scales and carved out a hunk of its flesh. She wrenched the weapon free just as the serpent jerked violently, sending her back into the ocean again as a cascade of the creature's inky blood spurted upwards like a geyser. Holding her breath as she made contact with the glacial water, she slammed through the barrier and tried not to pass out from the all-encompassing cold. With a last burst of strength, she broke through to the surface and desperately fought the undertow towards a cluster of fallen boulders, and heaved herself heavily onto one. She rolled onto her back and frantically fought to catch her breath, but it felt as if a weight was pressing down on her lungs, constricting her from panting as she fought to inhale. She grasped her axe at her side, hoping that the steadfast weapon would give her strength, and tried to focus of the battle above.

Toothless and Hiccup barely managed to skid out of the way as Jormungand lurched erratically and disappeared beneath the surface of the ocean, hissing furiously. Between his undying admiration and the overwhelming relief he felt at seeing her alive enough to attack a snake thousands of times larger than she was, the pair swooped down and landed on the rock beside her.

"Astrid!" he grappled at his prosthetic with numb fingers and hopped off of Toothless as fast as he could manage, slipping to her side, "Are you alright?"

"I-I'll b-be fine," she replied hoarsely, still breathing heavily. She started to push herself into a sitting position but her shaking limbs were doing very little to help; Hiccup reached out and assisted her in heaving herself onto her feet, keeping her propped against his body until she stopped trembling as forcefully as she was.

"What did you do to it?" Hiccup asked in an attempt to distract her from herself, seeing that she was soaked and her lips were tinged with blue. He peered around her body to gaze at the gore encrusted axe still gripped in her fingers, hanging limply at her side.

"I-Its skin is…is s-still soft," she ground out, trying to control her chattering teeth. Hiccup went to start rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm her with friction, but she shrieked and cowered away when he reached for her left appendage, which she had been cradling close to her chest.

His eyes widened with panic, "Are you hurt?"

Astrid was having a hard time controlling her breathing at this point, and her trembling was only getting worse. She moved her injured arm in front of her and Hiccup finally caught a glimpse of what the snake's venom had done to her skin.

He tried to school his expression as his eyes grazed over the mottled, blackened skin; he swallowed the wave of nausea that came over him and quickly brought his stare back towards her pallid face, trying to control himself. He reached out and brought her close to him again, keeping silent this time as he willed his body heat to warm her. He led them both over to Toothless, whose exhaustion was quickly getting the best of him as his gasping shuddered audibly with each deep exhale.

Hiccup filtered through what Astrid had just mentioned as he helped her onto Toothless' back, remembering almost immediately what she had said about seeing a giant snake skin floating in the waters when she had been hunting him down. He knew from his very limited experience with snakes that they shedded their skins, but their textures and vulnerability never really crossed him mind. He had, up until that moment, likened their skin with that of an eel, but upon landing on the creature and scampering up its back as they had earlier, its outer layer was much more reminiscent of that of a dragon. Hiccup glanced closely at Toothless' own scales as he swung his leg over the saddle, noticing the little gaps between each one; to a dragon as small as a Night Fury, the fissures didn't pose as a weakness, but when stretched out to cover miles…

Bending down to reattach his prosthetic, he tried to consider the serpent's weaknesses. The first image that came to mind was Astrid's great aunt Gothi, and how wrinkled and sheer her skin was, though she rarely showed it. If this snake was as old as he gave the impression of, Hiccup had a feeling that he may have just discovered how to take him down. Astrid herself had just proven how easily she could hack into Jormungand's scales, and that lesion had only been barely a foot deep. Hiccup had a three foot long sword strapped to his back, and for the first time since this entire battle had begun, Hiccup thought he might have a chance.

"Do you think he's gone?" he heard Astrid murmur from behind him, her uninjured arm snaking around his midriff as he pulled himself back up into a sitting position.

"He wouldn't give up that easy," Hiccup replied, eyeing the waters carefully. The waves had calmed down somewhat, but they were still tumultuous enough to hide the giant serpent's ascension from ocean level.

"Come on," he said to Toothless, easing the wearied dragon back to the land of the living. Toothless, foregoing his usual vertical lift off, flapped his wings just fast enough to push them off of the ground and spiral upwards, easily clearing the remaining sea stacks and the salty ocean spray.

They stopped only when they were high enough to be able to take in the vista around them. For a few moments, Hiccup let himself believe that they might have won but that hope was quickly squashed when his companion wordlessly pointed out that the buzzing in their heads was still there, still digging snake sized holes in their respective psyches. Hiccup sighed and kept his eyes peeled for anything that looked unnatural between the rise and fall of the whitecaps, but everything seemed to look natural, almost peaceful. Even the monochromatic sky was beginning to lighten somewhat, diminishing the dark shadows that shrouded them and rendering them impotent.

The wind started to pick up and although both Hiccup and Toothless were looking towards the North, Astrid felt the prickling feeling of intuition raise hairs on the back of her neck. Slowly, she peered over her shoulder, tightening her grasp on Hiccup instinctively.

"Hiccup…" she intoned, eyes widening with a growing sense of panic. Hearing the alarm in her voice, Hiccup spun around in his seat and froze, unable to swallow the huge swell of terror that felt horribly reminiscent of the last time this had happened.

"TOOTHLESS!" Hiccup screamed, but the ebony dragon was already flying as fast as he could away from the colossal tidal wave that was coming after them. Toothless tried as hard as he could to gain altitude, but the extra weight on his back was fighting against him, and the burn in his sides was quickly becoming too overwhelming to bear…

The wall of water hit them harder than anything they had ever experienced, and it took every ounce of energy to hold on as they were thrown sideways at unthinkable speeds, unable to prevent it. Astrid buried her face in Hiccup's neck and Hiccup bowed over Toothless, holding onto his scaly neck for dear life as they were thrown back towards the surface of the ocean, where they could easily be knocked out, or drowned, or swallowed –

Hiccup opened his eyes against the violent rush of salty water and regretted it immediately, but what he had seen in that split second was all that he had needed.

Toothless pressed his wings to his body and made himself as aerodynamic as he possibly could despite the two humans on his back, barrelling into Jormungand's eagerly waiting mouth and passing through his razor sharp teeth out of the other side unharmed. Once they were clear, the Night Fury opened his wings to slow them as much as possible before they skidded on the surface of the ocean like a skipping rock, finally coming to a stop many metres away. Jormungand, noticing his folly, rose up from the surf like a grotesque pillar and bared his teeth in all their glory.

The ancient snake was sick of playing. He had never been denied his victory before, and he refused to be defeated. He was the very epitome of pain and suffering in this world, the very harbinger of death and apocalypse! How dare these creatures pose a challenge! Their prevarications both astounded him and enraged him; their willingness to survive both perplexed him and displeased him. They should have been honoured to die in his grasps, the fiercest, most widely feared beast on this earth! And yet they continued to evade him, continued to fight back against him. How dare they?

He would crush their hopes, their desire for life. He would make them worship him once and for all.

The wound near his tail was only secondary to him now; it perturbed him that such a small creature could have sliced into his faultless skin so easily, but he thought nothing of it now. He was millions of years old, and had had his fair share of lesions, especially in his youth. He had not been injured in centuries, but this no longer mattered to him. His age only made him wiser; he would never be considered weak!

Jormungand roared, keeping his remaining eye trained on his prey as they hovered a little ways in front of him. He watched as the three creatures' tremored in his presence and basked in it, thinking of nothing but his own narcissistic glory. He coiled himself upwards and continued to snarl menacingly, preparing for one last final strike.

Hiccup, seeing the opportune moment approach rapidly, knew that it now or never. Rolling his shoulders, he turned his head and met Astrid's stubborn stare unflinchingly, "Remember when I asked you to trust me?"

Astrid narrowed her gaze, and although she tried to remain strong on the outside, she knew where this was going. Her stomach dropped as he gripped her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"You're going to fly Toothless."

"What?" Astrid exclaimed. Toothless turned his head around roughly at the same time, his expression matching that of Astrid's with disbelieving incredulity. Hiccup raised his palms and continued to explain.

"We're going to fly above his head, and…and then I'm going to jump off and…hopefully, as long as I don't die – stab him."

"Are you stupid?" Astrid shrieked in disbelief, her aggravation strong enough to finally bring some colour back onto her ashen cheeks, "You…you can't do that!"

"I can, and I will," he replied as calmly as he could, even though his outer shell held very little resemblance to the quavering fear he was hiding beneath, "You and Toothless will distract him, and I'll kill him."

Astrid stared at him in disbelief, "And if that doesn't work?"

"Plan B."

"And that is…" Astrid pursed her lips, not liking where this was going.

"Fly as high as you can and get out of here."

"What?"

"I'm serious Astrid! Stop looking at me like that!"

"No! No, you're being ridiculous—"

Ignoring her, Hiccup bent down and started unlatching his prosthetic from the stirrup. Toothless quipped in protest but didn't bother arguing with him any longer, sensing the logic through their mutual bond. He couldn't argue against logic, but he had his utmost doubts about his hatchling's mate trying to steer him without either of them dying in the process.

"What – what are you doing?" Astrid shouted as Hiccup contorted himself, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other around her thigh in order to pull her up in front of him.

"Please stop fighting me on this," Hiccup pleaded through his teeth, hoisting her around in an admirable feat of strength that would have shocked her had she not already been distracted otherwise. She gripped the handles of the saddle instinctively and peered back over her shoulder, her weary eyes gaping.

"How…how am I supposed to—"

"Try and fit your foot in there first," Hiccup urged, keeping one eye on Jormungand as he began to wind himself into a coil, "Quickly. Does it fit?"

"No," she choked and started to panic, "How am I going to steer him?"

"You'll have to use your hand," he replied gravely, swallowing the lump in his throat with difficulty, "Now, twist it out, and you'll go right; twist it in and you'll go left. The harder you twist it, the sharper the turn."

"But—"

"Push it down and you'll go up; push it up and you'll go down. Just think, opposites for everything."

"Wait!"

"Go Toothless!" Hiccup cried, snatching Astrid's hand in his and forcing her into grabbing the stirrup, "Left!"

Astrid pulled the stirrup left and they went on the opposite direction, spiralling out of control until Astrid yanked the contraption the other way. The turn was too sharp and Hiccup could feel Toothless' dread fall onto him like a dead weight, "Concentrate. You can do it."

"I'm not you!" she shrieked, barely able to hear herself over the airstream as they started to pick up speed, "I can't just…do it!"

"I know," Hiccup helped her as they ascended further over top of the snarling serpent, spiralling upwards in preparation for what would be a very swift dive, "When I say go, you're going to push up on the pedal as hard as you can. At the very last second, push down and get out of the way. Let Toothless guide you; if he starts to lean left, turn it in. If he starts to lean right, turn it out. Don't think about it, just do it."

"Are you really going to do this?" she whispered as Toothless paused at the top of their climb. They were weightless for a moment as Hiccup brushed her cheek with his lips, then drew the sword from the bindings on his back.

"Go."

Clenching her eyes shut, Astrid yanked upwards on the pedal as hard as she could and Toothless plunged into a nose dive. That ballistic noise that accompanied his free fall was the only thing he could hear as Hiccup prepped himself to jump, waiting for the opportune moment. It came within milliseconds and he leapt off of Toothless' back, flailing in the air with his limbs outstretched as he tried desperately to manoeuvre himself over the beast.

Astrid punched the pedal down and Toothless barely managed to clear the serpent's gigantic spines before dodging left and downwards around its humongous neck. He weaved right and, although the movements were jerky, he was surprised that they had actually succeeded in getting through their dive bomb without being thrown headlong into Jormungand's eager mouth.

Hiccup landed forcefully just below the nape of the serpent's neck and wasted no time in scampering upwards, ignoring the blinding pain that was spreading like fire from his legs. He hoisted himself around one of the creature's spinal plates just as Toothless attacked its face with a ball of indigo fire, distracting it from the thump it had felt on its back seconds earlier. Hiccup continued to climb regardless of the obvious projectile driven battle going on in front of him; Toothless fired several more shots to buy his hatchling more time, but Jormungand was fighting back, spewing streams of venomous poison to try and subdue his prey. Hiccup couldn't see what was going on in front of him, but he really hoped Astrid was getting a hang of dodging things before it was too late.

Hiccup finally clambered onto what he safely assumed to be the nape of the serpent's neck, and skittered into the shallow crater that marked where the snake's head met its spine. Hiccup took a moment to compose himself, staring blankly at one of the larger gaps between the serpent's enormous scales. It was now or never, and Hiccup swung the metal weapon over his head, slamming it into the base of Jormungand's skull until the sword was fully embedded in its flesh.

The immense serpent jerked violently, screeching as he tossed his head back in forth in excruciating agony. The vehement motion threw Hiccup off of the snake's head, hurling him up into the air before sending him plummeting back down towards the surface of the ocean.

Time slowed, and in those moments the leaden, blackened sky was replaced by a rapidly firing sequence of memories from his former life. He saw his village, his home and the rafters that held up the ceiling in his bedroom…but it was the three statues of the Norns that stuck in his mind as he tumbled helplessly through the air, too startled to scream. He watched as Jormungand continued to writhe above him, and Hiccup realized then that his efforts had been entirely in vain. He had injured the sea serpent, but his blade just hadn't been long enough to finally end him.

The waves crept closer and closer as he fell, and the last thing he saw before colliding with the merciless ocean was a bolt of lightning leaping across the clouds, smiting Jormungand once and for all by manipulating the only conductible object in the sky. Hiccup didn't have time to grin as the impact of the ocean slammed into his body, flooding his vision with blackness.

* * *

A big thank you to Lord Lithos Maitreya for providing me with all sorts of research. Much of what made Jormungand terrifying was because of LLM, so thank you again!

Also, if you're out there Sir Nick, let me know you aren't dead!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you thought of it, especially with all the action and stuff - this isn't really my genre, and I'd love to know if it came out clearly.

Finally, the 300 review kiriban is still up for grabs!

Brontë


	23. We Are Skuld V

The cast on my arm is off, Christmas is coming and Starbucks has those delicious holiday drinks again! Life is good, except for I forgot how hard it is being a student. And to think that I'm going to do grad school next year...I'm going to die. But until then, I'm going to drink Caramel Brulée Lattes and type copious amounts of forty page English essays on war poetry.

Anyway, this chapter is the darkest, most emotional installment of them all, so don't say I didn't warn you!

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc III : We Are Skuld  
**_

**_Chapter V_**

* * *

The first thing he noticed was the smell.

It smelt like freshly baked bread with bakeapple preserves, sliced and still warm with the jam smeared on top. It was the same recipe he had often imitated from the few scraps of paper that remained of his mother's recipe book, and he had memorized the smell. Most of it had been destroyed in a raid when he was eight or nine years old, but he had managed to save at least a few of the scribbled recipes written in his mother's sloppy hand. It was one of the only things he had left that reminded him of her. If he was to be honest with himself, Hiccup didn't know much about his mother but he did know that she hadn't been of the upper class when she had started being courted by his father, and the village elder had made it her Odin-sworn mission to teach the young shield maiden how to read and write. Vaguely, Hiccup wondered if Gothi had been the elder even then.

He breathed in deeply as the fog of bleary sleepiness slowly wore off. He felt like smiling as the expansion of his lungs didn't cause him any pain – the wound between his ribs must have healed while he was sleeping. He loved sleeping; he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in an age, although the reasons for his insomnia were still hazy in his mind.

The next thing he noticed was the sounds around him, lulling him out of his restfulness with the gentle crash of the waves somewhere off in the distance. He figured he must have been at home again. Nearby, he could hear someone humming a familiar tune, although why it was so recognizable was still just out of his reach.

Unable to fight the call of wakefulness any longer, Hiccup opened his eyes and was immediately blinded by the brightness of the midday sun. He squinted against the brilliant light that streamed in from the open windowpane, framing a picturesque vista of the breathtaking seaboard between the worn hardwood. He pulled his forearm over his eyes to try and block some of the glare as he tried to adjust to the dazzling daylight flooding into the quaint room he was laying in, and he let his other senses guide him in figuring out where on earth he was. The warmth of the sun against his skin told him that it was summer here, so it couldn't be Berk. He could hear the gulls crying on the ocean breeze and the waves crashing against the coastline. He could taste the salt in the air. All of the pain he distantly remembered feeling was suddenly gone, and it was safe to say that he didn't miss it in the least.

Braving the brilliance of the room, Hiccup removed his arm from above his eyes and drew himself up onto his elbows, sinking into the softest mattress he had ever laid on in his life. Why had he been sleeping? How had he managed to find such a comfortable bed? Had he missed something?

"You must be starving!"

Hiccup jolted reflexively from his semi-upright position, jerking his head towards the noise as a figure stepped quietly into the room. He fought to make out the face in the radiance that continued to overwhelm him and he scrubbed at his eyes with his fists as he tried again to make sense of the silhouette that strode joyously towards him, hands outstretched in a greeting with open arms.

"My brave, brave boy! Look at you, skinny as a rail – eat up!"

Hiccup's jaw dropped.

The boisterous woman grinned widely at Hiccup and deposited a wooden bowl onto the bedside table before sitting onto the bed and wrapping him in her arms, "You've grown so much," she pulled away, holding his face in her palms, "I always knew you'd make me proud."

"But..." he stuttered, mouth still agape, "but you're—"

"Dead. Trust me, I know."

"But that means—"

"That you're dead too?" Valhallarama laughed, her voice tinkling like copper chimes in a summer breeze, "Perhaps. But no matter, eat up! You look like a skeleton!"

Hiccup was too stunned to reply as Valhallarama leant over and retrieved the bowl, setting it down in front of him. He stared at it, awestruck. Then he gaped back up at the woman in front of him again, who motioned for him to turn his attention back to the soup.

Warily he collected the bowl gingerly in his palms, seeming almost distrustful of the very solidity of the thing. A thousand thoughts started running though his head as he began sipping the soup from the rim of the dish, slurping it down as if he hadn't eaten in a week. He was still starving as he polished off the bowl in less than a minute, wiping his face with the back of his hand to mop up some of the broth that had spilled.

"Picked up some of your father's eating habits I see," she smirked, raising an eyebrow as he sheepishly set the bowl down in his lap. She took it from his hands and pushed herself off of the downy mattress, touching a finger to the side of her nose, "I'll go fetch another."

She slipped out of the room and Hiccup took the moment to try and make sense of the last sixty seconds. Where was he? What had happened to him? He'd been killed hadn't he? And if he was dead, that meant…

Had he made it to Valhalla?

He scratched his head, swallowing uncomfortably as he shifted on the bed. He swung both of his legs around and set them onto the ground, feeling rested enough to pull himself to his feet—

His feet?

He looked down and gaped, his eyes rivalling the circumference of soup bowls. Two bare feet poked out from beneath the gauzy green fabric of the pants he was wearing, pushing cautiously against the warm wooden floor. With prompting, Hiccup's toes were soon wiggling jovially in the bright summer sun, one alongside of the other, moving in tandem with each other. He reached down just to prove its existence to himself, placing his fingers gingerly on the skin of his left foot. It existed. It was there.

He was finally whole again.

"It's wonderful, isn't it?"

For the second time that day, her voice shook him out of his reverie and he looked up to see her smiling with another steaming bowl of soup in her hands. She balanced it on one of her palms and sat down beside him once more, placing a maternal hand on his shoulder, "There are no grievances here. Only peace."

"How can I be at peace?" he asked, his throat tightening as a flurry of emotions came over him, "I'm dead!"

Valhallarama breathed out quietly, tracing the rim of the bowl with her fingers, "I can't honestly say."

"But how did I get..." his eyes widened slowly as the realization of the events that had gotten him there took hold,"...get here...oh gods..."

Sightlessly, Hiccup stared at a knot in the hardwood, kneading his hands together as the cogs in his mind slowly cleared themselves of the haze that had washed over him. His memories came back to him with numbing precision, drowning him in an ocean of images and emotions just as he had drowned in the sea itself. He had hit the water and then...

And now he was here.

Hiccup pushed himself to his feet and continued to stare blankly at the floor, bunching his hands into fists. His voice was frighteningly toneless, "How am I supposed to fix this mess when I'm dead?"

Valhallarama didn't answer, watching all the while as he started to pace back and forth in growing frustration. With each step he took the sound of his feet slapping against the wood grew until he was nearly stomping, and Valhallarama could do nothing but helplessly watch.

"Hiccup," she started gently, raising herself to intervene, "Sit down. I know it's hard to understand, but—"

"No!" his mother grabbed his forearm and he jerked away, breaking her grip, "I will not be responsible for losing her! And Toothless, without me…"

Hiccup trailed off, the gravity of his situation finally dawning on him with a magnitude he wasn't yet willing to comprehend. He slumped onto the windowsill and fought back the tears that threatened to escape, screwing his eyes shut with grief.

"Tell me about her."

Hiccup turned sharply towards his mother, "What? Why?"

"Just…tell me about her."

He looked away, swallowing regretfully, "She's beautiful. Accepting. Powerful. She's got the temper of a bull, but…her heart is in the right place. Gods, I wish I could have just...seen her I guess, one last time…"

He stifled the sobs that threatened to rack through his body, holding his breath in a feeble attempt to try and stop them. Valhallarama held back the urge to try and comfort him; she understood his need to grieve.

"She…" he took a shaky breath, "She has golden hair and her eyes sparkle every time she smiles. She's determined, stubborn," he couldn't help but smile sadly as he thought of how she had chased him halfway across the known world and beyond, "She's perfect."

"I always had a feeling…" his mother said pensively from behind him, and Hiccup felt compelled to stare, "She grew up to be a beautiful girl."

"But how—"

"You didn't think I spent my whole time here making mutton stew did you?" she laughed quietly, her voice filling the room, "We're not completely separate from the realm of Midgard, you know. I know all about what went on down there after I passed," her smile faded as she came to stand a little closer, "If I had known that your father would have treated you that way…Gods Hiccup. Can you forgive me?"

"Forgive you?" Hiccup's expression betrayed his disbelief, "For what?"

She ran her hands roughly through her red hair, loosening the bun nestled at the nape of her neck, "The moment…the moment I held you in my arms I knew…" she grinded her teeth together, her anguish apparent on her features, "I couldn't fight it. And then there was the raid…I tried to save you…"

"Well," Hiccup managed to say, his breath hitched, "I managed to live longer than anyone expected of me anyway."

Valhallarama breathed out heavily, fighting to reign in her emotions, "I'm proud of you Hiccup."

She pulled him into another hug, one that he gratefully returned, "When you took on the Red Death…I watched on in horror. I was so frightened," she blinked hastily and shook her head, grappling for control, "Your fight drew in quite a crowd actually; nearly half of Valhalla came out to watch. And then you appeared on this very bed," she pulled away slightly, staring at the now empty bed with glassy eyes, "You laid there for days, half in this world and half in your own. I waited at your bedside, hoping that you'd disappear. And finally, after seventeen days, you did."

"I wasn't sure how the loss of your leg would hit you, but I knew you would be hurt. I saw the way you beat yourself up about it. I saw the way you suffered. And I wanted to help so bad, but the gods don't pull favours lightly, even if you did just save the entire Viking race from eventual extinction. They told me my favour would be granted in due time, and I still hold them to it."

She smiled and gazed at him fondly, her heart swelling in pride, "And now it's time I gave you that pep talk I should have given you years ago, had I gotten the chance," she breathed in deeply, settling the surge of emotions threatening to break through her barriers again, "Somehow, you managed to bring peace to our people in a way I can't even begin to imagine. You've done so much, no matter what you may think. Sometimes, it isn't the ingredients that are important, but the sum of their parts, and from every mistake comes something to be learnt, you know," she placed her hands on both of his shoulders, staring him straight in the eye, "You're only a boy, and it's that that makes you special. Even the gods have taken notice, and that in itself is something to be proud of."

He swallowed roughly, and Valhallerama could tell he was fighting his own demons inside. She squeezed his shoulder gently, gradually bringing him back to her.

"So what? You're left handed – you're different! Does that make you any less of a hero?" she shook her head, smiling slightly, "You lost your leg, but only a genius could have thought up the contraption you created to replace it. And you tamed a dragon! You made him whole again, and as a result became his equal. You take too little credit Hiccup, you know that?"

She brushed a bit of dirt off of his cheek, smiling widely now at her grown son, "My mother once told me that if I couldn't change the future, I'd have to try and change the world. I never understood it at the time, but the meanings were one and the same – it's just the way you go about doing it."

Hiccup turned his head to the side, unable to face her any longer. A myriad of emotions were cropping up inside of him all at once, and the exhaustion he had felt before was beginning to stir inside of him yet again. He heard his mother take a sharp intake of breath and he slowly swivelled his head to look at her, only for his mother to smile warmly and kiss him gently on the forehead.

"Hiccup…" she whispered, pulling him closely to her chest once again. He felt her tears as they streamed into his hair, and she sobbed quietly without abandon as he slowly began to fade in his mother's arms.

"Mom," he gasped, staring down at his translucent hand over her shoulder, "What…what's happening?"

She hugged him closer, struggling against her emotions, "They kept their word," she whispered.

"What?" Hiccup pulled away, suddenly panicked. His limbs were fading fast before his eyes, and soon he could barely feel his mother's touch on his arms, "What's going on?"

"You're going back," she breathed, smiling sadly.

"Back? But…I thought I was…"

The scene around him was fading. The sun was setting around him.

"Go. Change the world."

"But, mom!"

"Don't fight it."

"Wait!"

As the last remaining tendrils of light escaped his vision, the remnants of one last phrase floated away on the wind.

"_It was never your time."_

* * *

Astrid clenched her eyes shut, waiting in horror for the inevitable. She just wasn't cut out for this – _she wasn't Hiccup!_ – and her lack of ability to steer the Night Fury's rig had inevitably led them to their defeat. Pressing her cheek into the supple leather of Hiccup's saddle, Astrid knew that she'd finally been bested.

But the impact never came.

She blinked just in time to watch a river of lightning spider across the clouds, and stared up in terror as the monstrous sea serpent shrieked in agony. The leviathan threw its head back in a fit of pain-filled rage as the rumble of thunder began to crackle through the air, shocking her out of her frightened trance. Toothless banked on his left side and Astrid had no choice but to clamp her frozen fingers around the stirrup and wrench them sideways, barely avoiding the giant waves that towered from the surface of the ocean as he thrashed.

Hiccup had done it.

Hiccup had done it!

Astrid let out a whoop of joy as she twisted the stirrup inwards, sending the pair into a tight turn so that they were facing Jormungand yet again. The huge serpent was still writhing in pain, but was showing no signs of stopping, and Astrid's short lived thrill quickly came to an abrupt close. The realization dawned on Astrid with profundity as she came to grasp that the monster hadn't been hurt enough, the wound hadn't been deep enough, to end their battle. Hiccup had done all that he could, and she could sense it in Toothless that he was desperate to find out what happened to him too. But they had to put their concern to the side for just a few more minutes as they fought to gain some altitude amid all of the crashing whitecaps and the snake's thrashing body trouncing up and down with the waves.

Lightning crackled above them again, but this time there was no ignoring it. Fingers of electricity danced amongst the clouds until they all converged on one point, uniting into one huge pillar that plunged from the root of the cloud like the head of a hammer. It struck with frightening precision the very hilt of the sword embedded in Jormungand's neck and electrocuted him, sending the gigantic serpent into convulsions. Astrid and Toothless watched with matching expressions of both awe and terror as the gargantuan beast began to contract in on itself, its skin shrivelling and shrinking around its body, effectively strangling it. Its remaining eye roved wildly in its socket as blood began to froth out of its choking maw, gargling and guttering as if it were drowning mid-air. It continued to wither and shrink, thrashing in twitching motions as its body started to dissolve, dripping downwards and saturating the sea with its crimson venom that steamed and poisoned the air with its noxious vapours. Astrid pulled her sleeve over her face as the snake continued to disintegrate, decaying and liquefying until all that was left were the sea bleached bones of its spine. Squinting through the mist, Astrid watched as each of the island sized vertebrae sunk one by one into the ocean, leaving no trace behind.

The pair watched in silence for a moment, the nightmare of what had been there only moments earlier still fresh in their minds. Part of her still thought that the snake would come up at devour them now that they had let their guard down, and its death had only been a trick of the eyes.

She swallowed painfully and coughed deeply into the woollen sleeve of her soaking coat; the fumes in the poisoned air were burning her lungs and her throat. Sensing Toothless move beneath her, Astrid placed her hand back on the stirrup and tried to hold her breath, but the actions of the day were quickly catching up with her. Her eyelids drooped as she realized just how truly cold she was, and the fire in her lungs made slipping into unconsciousness all that more inviting. She could feel Toothless begin to lag beneath her as well as they drifted lower and lower towards the surface of the ocean, wavering back in forth in a bare attempt to keep clear of the waves.

Try as she might, staying awake was becoming harder and harder. She began to shiver again, her teeth chattering violently behind her frozen, blue tinged lips. The only thing that kept her alert was the dimming image of Hiccup at the back of her mind, reminding her of what she was searching for. She kept telling herself that he was somewhere out there, holding onto a piece of driftwood and she clung to the image, forcing herself to stay focused. She spoke out loud and managed to get the attention of Toothless, who wasn't faring any better in the paralysing cold.

They flew over the surface of the ocean for what seemed like hours, stumbling here and there when either Astrid or Toothless would momentarily succumb to their own exhaustion. It was only a matter of time before they both failed; they were both losing faith as every pass left them empty handed in their search for the boy that had brought them out here in the first place. And despite this, they both owed their lives to him.

Astrid closed her eyes, choking back a sob. He had to be out there. Hiccup wouldn't just die. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Not when they still had so much life left to lead.

The clouds were beginning to disperse now, and she could see that the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. Remorsefully, she knew that there would be no finding him in the dark. Toothless shuddered dangerously beneath her before crying out mournfully, calling to his hatchling. It echoed throughout the remaining sea stacks as they rose from their search for Hiccup in the ocean and started south, looking for the closest island in order to rest.

Barely a mile away, the two of them fell upon a spit of land and collapsed onto the sodden ground, their limbs just giving out on them. Throwing off her crisp, ice covered jacket, Astrid rolled under Toothless' wing and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

It felt like months had passed before Astrid opened her eyes again, coughing deeply from her chest and wheezing painfully as she tried to inhale. She cracked open her eyelids and found it to be a nearly impossible task, the motion expending far more energy than she would have liked. Rational thought came slowly as she pushed herself to her hands and knees beneath Toothless' wing, heaving and choking as she fought to take a deep breath. Her limbs shook traitorously beneath her.

Toothless, upon being roused by Astrid's laboured coughing as well as the rumbling of thunder above them, removed his wing from over top of her body and lifted an eyelid from his prone position on the ground. He was so cold he couldn't feel his legs and no matter how hard he wished them to move, he still couldn't get them to stir on their own accord. Concernedly, he watched as Astrid heaved herself to her feet, using his spinal fins for support as her body quaked and shivered from underneath her. She kept her expression determined, however, and stumbled slowly towards the sparse forest to make a fire.

Gripping a branch in her unfeeling fingers, Astrid bent over and clawed at a few fallen limbs. She tried to pick them up but ended up falling to her knees in an attempt, burying her bottom half in a mound of snow. Frowning, she gritted her teeth and pushed herself up with all of the energy she could muster, bringing the handful of sticks up with her. Satisfied, she staggered back towards Toothless and deposited the small pile of twigs in front of his nose.

She sunk to her knees, hacking openly as the exertion proved to be too much for her. She collapsed onto the dragon's withers as he spat a small spark towards the modest pile, setting the little sticks alight. Astrid leant forwards and tried to get as close to the minute fire as possible without actually falling on top of it as she tried desperately to absorb all of the warmth that she could. She felt nothing as she held her hands over top of the flames, her breath rattling inside her chest. Dazed, she stared into the fire, her blue eyes glazed over as she thought of nothing.

The fire was out within minutes, and Astrid felt like giving up all over again. She wheezed over and over again as the colour in her face drained from the lack of oxygen, and for a moment the world started to spin. She tried to find the ground beneath her but she was feeling too lightheaded, too dizzy as the earth became the sky and the sky became the earth. Her limbs gave out underneath of her and she started to collapse only to be cushioned mid-fall by a black blur, cold and grey.

Toothless' concern was growing; his hatchling's mate was slowly succumbing to whatever poison she had breathed in when the serpent had disintegrated before their eyes, and the many minutes she had spent floating in the freezing Arctic waters hadn't helped her either. And if she couldn't control his tail fin, than he wouldn't be able to search for his hatchling.

He didn't want to believe that Hiccup was gone; he wouldn't believe it, there was nothing that could make him believe it. He was out there somewhere, holding on for dear life because he could still _feel_ him, humming at near silence in the back of his mind where he had been residing for so many weeks already. The snake was dead – he knew that as he lowered Astrid back onto the ground with his wing, but that strange connection was still there, if only barely. It was enough to confirm his hopes, his faith. Hiccup was out there. Hiccup needed him.

And he was going to find him no matter what.

* * *

Hiccup's return back to consciousness was excruciating.

He crawled listlessly through the haze, grappling with his fingernails for some sort of concrete sensation against the vicious tug that was wrapped around his ankles, drawing him back into the abyss. The first thing he noticed was the splitting headache he felt, pounding forcefully in tandem with every throb of his heart. His cheek scraped against something rough in texture as he tried desperately to make his mind work and make sense of what had happened, but he was in no state to wonder coherently.

The steady hammering of the rain around him only added to the caustic ambiance of his pounding head, making it feel as if someone were driving blunt nails into his skull. He dry heaved into the ground as the weak, fluttering sensation in his stomach churned with nausea, his mouth filling with mud and sand. Choking, he could barely find the strength to spit it back out. He moaned in the back of his throat and struggled to move his hand to his head in order to try and relieve some of the pain, give him some relief. It took a few seconds for him to realize that he couldn't move, even though he could feel his muscles twitch in their effort to jerk up.

Vaguely, in the back of his addled mind, he realized that something was wrong. He couldn't feel his left arm, and his right was somewhere folded beneath his body. His shoulder screamed in pain. His eyes blearily fluttered open; his vision was spinning, but the only thing he could see was the ground, saturated with the frigid rain that pounded down on top of him.

He blinked his bleary, unfocused eyes as he tried to gather his bearings. He was desperate to figure out where he was. He strained to breathe in but he only ended up suffocating on the torrent of mud that blocked his windpipe. His lungs heaved for oxygen. Spitting and gasping for breath, he noticed the acrid smell of blood tainting the air, wafting through his nose and assaulting his senses.

Beneath all of his temporary confusion, a trickle of dread began to seep into the forefront of his mind. He remembered nothing. He gave a weak attempt to budge from his uncomfortable position and only barely managed to shift his head a little farther to the side, but at least then he was able to take in his surroundings. He saw mud and the jagged foundations of stones jutting through the sodden ground in the blurry pre-dawn light, but nothing else. Distantly, he could hear the crashing of waves against the soil. The spray soaked him to the marrow, and the salt in the water stung the gashes on his back and sides.

He still couldn't feel his legs. He hissed as the blinding agony of the salt in his wounds continued to set fire to his torso, his entire body. His eyes burned against the brine that had pooled beneath him, seeping into him. He hissed as the white hot pain tore through his nerves. The pain seemed to last for hours, and he couldn't stop the muted scream that ripped from his parched lips. His eyes were screwed together so tightly that it hurt as another wash of freezing salt water crashed down on top of him, but that discomfort was nothing in comparison to the pain he was feeling as his body convulsed around him.

The pain slowly began to ebb as the undertow drew away and he collapsed limply back onto the sodden ground, sputtering and panting for breath. A cold ache overtook his senses as his body started to fall back towards the abyss of blessed darkness, towards unconsciousness. He fought it weakly, prolonging the agony as he cracked his eyes open wearily again, still stinging and red.

"Help…" he whispered into the darkness, his voice hoarse and raspy. His tongue felt as if it were made of lead. He winced. He tried to think clearly but the pain that coated his mind like a film was simply too thick to wash away. He took a shuddering breath above the fierce pain that continued to linger in his limbs. His mind threatened to lose sight again and he tried to keep focus, but the crash of water from behind soaked him yet again. He jerked involuntarily as a scream passed his lips, echoing feebly against his surroundings.

His vision narrowed; he didn't have the energy to keep his eyes open any longer. He was so cold. Part of him wondered if he was dead.

It was then that the raw horror overtook him as the realisation of what had happened suddenly took hold. The rush of fear that had been held off by his hypothermic state of mind spilled over the barriers at that moment, coiling and clawing at his chest. He was dead. He had to be.

That snake.

He had fallen.

The paralyzing fear. The nauseous panic. The bone crushing impact on the churning waves. It was the last thing he remembered.

He drowned.

And now he was in Hel.

Endless thoughts swirled around his mind with no real direction as he tried to fight the catalepsy that had taken hold. He was frozen in place as his crazed, terror driven thoughts overshadowed any sense of common sense, of logic. His heart throbbed in a frenzy and he shrieked for breath, the pain becoming too much.

Errant tears streamed down the bridge of his nose and onto the soil beneath him. The feeling of a knife in his ribs dug deeper and his eyes were flung wide open, his lips parted. He was hyperventilating. He couldn't breathe. He tried, but all that left his throat was a dry, strangled sob.

The pain began to numb. Weakly, he tried to grasp at the last remaining shreds of his conscious thoughts, but his mind failed to process it. His eyes closed again on their own accord, and slowly, everything faded into the quiet folds of darkness.

* * *

Well, what did you think?

When I initially wrote the first part of this chapter more than a year ago, I had intended Horizons to be far more supernatural than it actually turned out to be. And even though I've kept the mystical aspects of this whole crazy world to a minimum, I couldn't help but include the section that started it all; that way, instead of being seen as a concrete event, Hiccup's reconciliation with his mother could also be seen as a lucid dream. However, as a wise wizard once said, _"Of course it's all in your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it's not real?"_

The last section was based loosely off of how I felt laying on the concrete after getting hit by the car. I knew the experience would come in handy! If you're ever looking for some literary inspiration, throw yourself into a near death situation! Works like a charm!

Lastly, keep in mind that it always gets darkest before dawn...next chapter will be up before Christmas :)

Brontë


	24. We Are Skuld VI

Happy Christmas! (Hanukkah, Kawanzaa, Holidays, etc.)

As promised, here is chapter six before I take a little break for the holidays. I was really disappointed in the lack of response I recieved for the last chapter, so I hope to hear from a few more of you this time around. :) It's the holidays after all - giving and recieving and all that :)

I have a lot of comments at the end - stay tuned!

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc III : We Are Skuld  
**_

**_Chapter VI_**

* * *

Toothless peered upwards, his gaze trained on the horizon. His rider's mate was passed out beneath his wing, sound asleep finally, and the dragon was thankful for the reprieve. After practically pouncing on the girl who had shown admirable tenacity for being poisoned to the point of nearly dying, he'd managed to lick her wounds long enough to stave off the infection from wrecking anymore havoc on her already compromised immune system. Still, there was nothing he could do about the incessant coughing since she had breathed in the poisonous fumes of the very serpent that had practically wiped several decades off of his life from the stress of it all; his mortality had been the common focus of his thoughts for the last couple hours as the sun hovered in the sky, telling him it was close to midday.

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, reaching out for that niggling sensation deep in the back of his mind. It had been wavering in and out of focus for some time now, and the ebony dragon could only assume that it was some sort of sign that Hiccup was eclipsing between consciousness and unconsciousness over and over again. The Night Fury's heart ached; he wanted so badly to find his brethren, the only family he had. He had to find his Hiccup. He had to save him.

He felt Astrid shift beneath his wing restlessly, and Toothless opened his eyes again. The exhaustion in his limbs was beginning to wane the longer he rested, although his joints were still stiff with exertion. He had had a hard few days, and that, combined with his age, had gotten the best of him.

Lifting his wing slightly, he gazed down at his hatchling's companion and nosed her closer to his body to keep her warm. His breath tousled her fur and he vaguely began to wonder what had happened to the Nadder that had become her companion. He vowed to look for her too, although he had grim expectations of her fate; she had taken a very hard hit to the chest when she and her rider had been taken down by the serpent the day before. Had he not been so distracted with his hatchling's reaction to it all, perhaps he would have been able to have seen where the blue and yellow dragon had landed.

Toothless swallowed the wave of guilt and lowered his wing again. For a moment, Toothless felt stripped of all that he had come to love. He was overwhelmed with the sudden grief, and although he fought to stave it off, he couldn't help but cry out in sorrow. His croon echoed mournfully throughout the pitiful expanse of barren trees covering the miserable breadth of land they had chosen to rest on, carrying on the wind.

An hour or so passed before he felt Astrid move beneath him again, slowly stirring from her agitated slumber. She combed her fingers through her hair as she fought to open her eyes, breathing in as deeply as she could manage as her knuckles clicked noisily. Distantly, she remembered how she had broken them on Snotlout's jaw shortly before she had left Berk for the unknown horizon; she frowned, wondering briefly as to what was happening back at home.

She cleared the sleep out of her eyes with the same hand before pulling herself up onto her side, wincing as the scab on her arm pulled painfully at the surrounding skin as she moved. Begrudgingly, she was somewhat thankful that the ebony dragon had taken it upon himself to keep her from killing herself, but it had still been disgusting. She'd only caved because of the desperation in his expression, and it was one she could rightfully concern herself with. Toothless couldn't leave the island without her, and despite all of her pride getting in the way of her wayward common sense, she knew that she was in no right condition to steer him.

Astrid got to her knees as the Night Fury pulled his wing from covering her body, watching her with concern from the corner of his eye. She was too prideful to accept help willingly and he kept any urges of helping her to himself, knowing that the appropriate time for that would come later. For now, he would simply allow her to fight this on her own; she was stronger than she looked despite her seeming fragility and obvious femininity. The journey had not been kind to her, and it showed as the noontime light threw her protruding cheekbones and sullen eyes into sharp relief.

Astrid sat back on her haunches, happy that her mind wasn't nearly as foggy as it had been earlier that morning. She could think now, and immediately her thoughts began to run rampant, circling around the events that had happened yesterday as well as the situation she had landed herself in today. She had zero supplies save the ones still strapped to Toothless' sides; turning her head, she realized that she had completely forgotten about the two small saddlebags and immediately started to dig through the one closest to her in hopes of rummaging up something that could help her at all.

She yanked out a spare jacket which she pulled on eagerly over her upper body. As she buttoned up the fur coat, she noticed a blood stain on the one side and swallowed uncomfortably, reminded of the boy who she wasn't currently able to save. She pinched the bridge of her nose tightly and squeezed her eyes shut as she buried her hand back into the bag, unwilling to continue the painful train of thought.

Next, her fingers brushed the leather bindings of a notebook, which she extracted very slowly. She placed the worn book carefully on her lap and delved into the bag again, withdrawing a pair of woolly socks as well as a small wrapping of dried fruits. She tore into the package and shoved a few of the rations into her mouth before stopping herself, staring guiltily down at the packet resting on the notebook in her lap. She took a few more before saving the other half and placing them back into the saddlebag for Hiccup, should she ever find him.

Using the seemingly dormant dragon as an anchor, Astrid pushed herself onto her feet and walked with far more vigour than she had earlier that morning to Toothless' opposite flank in order to empty the bag there was well. She found several other little supplies, including an empty water skin and a paring knife, before landing on a rolled up scroll crumpled at the bottom of the bag.

Intrigued, she brought her bounty over back to the other side of Toothless and opened the creased and wrinkled parchment, gasping when the stolen map from her Great Aunt's appeared beneath her fingers. She'd accused him of losing it some days ago and yet here it was, undamaged save the intricate charcoal additions dotting the western side of the map. Her eyes widened as she trailed the pad of her fingers across the various islands he had encountered on his travels, even going so far as to adding names to them.

She rolled the map back up gingerly and placed in back into the bag, forcing herself to gain some semblance of control again. The longer she waited and delayed, she knew, the less likely Hiccup was going to survive. She had an inkling that Toothless knew more about his situation than she did, and part of her wondered in their unlikely connection still existed between them. She glanced at the dragon's stormy expression and tried not to think about it.

She took another deep breath and tried to take stock of her current condition. As much as she wanted to relive the fact that she was Astrid Hofferson and nothing could stand in her way, she knew trying to do anything right now would only put both of them in danger. Chewing her lip, she knew she would have to bide her time and just wait a little bit longer. If she could garner just a little more strength before the sun went down, they could start their search of the surrounding islands on a blind hope of finding him still alive.

Stretching her arms and ignoring the snap in her fingers that constantly reminded her of her homeland, Astrid cracked open the leather bindings of Hiccup's notebook and slowly began to leaf through the brilliantly illustrated pages. Landscape after landscape stretched across the parchment, exemplifying many of the beautiful scenes he had come upon in his travels. Pines lightly dusted in snow dotted the corners as the rays of the rising sun took up the background, casting the mountainous horizons into wavering shadows that practically leapt off the page with their richness. Jutting crags of igneous rock sparkled in the daylight as a flawless rendition of Toothless laid sprawled beneath a giant spruce, basking in the intermittent light that filtered through the thick branches and snow covered needles that extended over the uppermost parts of the pages.

She rubbed her thumb against an errant sketch mark, blending the marring line in with the rest of the image. She realized that the notebooks she had stolen from him were lost now to the tides, having fallen along with all of her other gear when the serpent had destroyed the base of the volcano that they had taken refuge on nearly two days ago. The only thing she had left was her axe, which was resting at her side. Everything else was probably sitting somewhere at the bottom of the ocean; her food, her clothes, everything was gone.

Her breath hitched as she thought of her own dragon. She was no fool, and she had figured out the Nadder's grim fate without having to have seen it. She had heard the distinctive crunch of breaking limbs when the blue dragon had taken the brunt of the blow during the attack. She had seen the fruits of her lesions as Astrid had fallen to the ground; the Nadder's blood having stained her outer jacket now served as a beacon of a reminder in a pile to her left. Her emotions told her to burn it, but her common sense left it untouched until the evening when she would no doubt need to pull it on again.

She glanced back down at the notebook and flipped the page again and again, awed by the detail of every winter kissed scene described visually across the pages. The picturesque panoramas were eventually replaced by drawings of a completely different nature, however. She caught her breath in her throat as she gazed at a pair of dragons he had obviously encountered in his travels. The tallest was beautiful, magnificent even, whereas the other was a sickly looking blotchy thing, shaded deeply with charcoal. She leafed through the next few pieces and noticed that he had dedicated several pages to the baby dragon, which looked better and better with every sketch. Vaguely, she wondered about the circumstances that had brought them all together.

The sketches after these became few and far between, and much less detailed and refined. She reflected for a moment when she fell onto the blank parchment, turning back the leaf in order to take a better look at the final drawing. It looked like nothing but scribbles at first, but eventually she was able to make out a figure amidst the chaos on the page and quickly realized it was her. For a moment she wondered if the erratic roughness of the drawings had been a reflection of his own thoughts; she knew that he hadn't quite been in the greatest of places when she found him however long it was ago. She'd lost track of the days.

She closed the notebook and tucked it back into the saddlebag, rolling her shoulders to try and get out the kinks in her tired muscles. The motion started her into a coughing fit and she fought to try and keep it down, but the Night Fury beside her was already gazing back at her with barely shielded concern. She forced herself into breathing deeply as she gained control over her mutinous body, tightening her lips into a thin line. She locked gazes with Toothless and placed her gloved palm onto his withers, pressing firmly onto the scale covered skin.

"Hey," she croaked, her voice hoarse from coughing, "We'll find him."

Toothless maintained their locked stare, trying to gauge her condition. She was doing much better now that the poison wasn't affecting her blood stream directly, but the jaundiced pall of her features and the greenish tinge to her lips told him that she was still suffering from its effects. Her eyes weren't as glazed as they had been earlier, and the dragon couldn't help but admire the determination she had taken on in order to try and get over this ailment. She was remarkably obstinate, and the dragon knew from experience that this was a less than admirable trait, but occasionally it was something that could be applicably useful. And right now, as she tried so desperately to be the person she felt she needed to be, Toothless was somewhat grateful.

Without her, he wouldn't be able to move and she knew it. She also knew that if Hiccup was truly beyond the realms – as much as it hurt to admit – they would have to rely on each other in order to get back to safety. He didn't have particularly high hopes of her figuring out his tack anytime soon, but she had proven to be a quick study and Toothless supposed he could work with it.

After all, if they didn't make it to Hiccup in time, she would be the only option he had left.

Another hour passed, and Astrid finally felt strong enough to stand again. She was getting irritated with the sluggishness that was keeping her body from functioning at its fullest potential, but she was glad at least that she could think properly again. All of the deep breathing she had been trying to accomplish had only calmed her somewhat however, and when she fell into episodes of heavy coughing she tried to calm herself with fantasies of bringing that snake back to life just to throttle the soul out of it with her own bare hands all over again.

She pushed herself to her feet and blinked away the surge of pain that radiated all the way through her body, starting at her toes until it splayed throughout the base of her skull. She ground her teeth and began to walk slowly, trying to get the blood flowing back through her aching limbs yet again. Within minutes she was moving comfortably once more, pacing back and forth as the poison in her muscles eventually receded until she felt more or less normal again, save for the incessant laboured breathing that wouldn't go away. She was getting sick of sounding like one of the dying elderly every time she heaved.

Eventually Toothless stretched out his body and clambered onto his paws, gazing languidly at his improvised partner. She understood the gesture wordlessly and gathered the things she had taken from the saddlebags, placing them back into their respectful places. She pulled on the sullied jacket last of all before lugging her leg overtop of the Night Fury's shoulders and bending down to grasp the steering mechanism that controlled the black dragon's tail wing. They lifted off of the ground with a few heavy, laboured beats of his wings and Astrid watched as the ground all but disappeared beneath them.

She trusted Toothless to take them where they needed to go; after all, a dragon's senses were far superior to her own from what she could tell, and it wasn't like she could attribute much to their search anyway. Riding blind was one thing, but being bent double over her thigh as she was forced to adjust the pedal every five seconds was another. Besides steering, she was basically useless and in any other situation she would have been livid to be reduced to such a state.

For now though, she was happy to let Toothless take the lead.

They soared over several islands, and although Astrid's point of view was decidedly limited, she was able to take in a significant portion of the panorama. The destruction wreaked upon the beaches and coasts of the many small islets was substantial; the huge waves had wreaked havoc on the already wind worn patches of land, and errant shards of rock protruded like broken fingers from the ruined shorelines.

Toothless took a particularly sharp turn and Astrid was forced to compensate for it, sending her into a fit of hoarse coughs. Realizing his folly, the dragon balanced himself in the air and waited patiently for the girl to regain her focus; he kept reminding himself to be gentle, but his mind was Hel bent on finding his rider, not matter what the cost.

Astrid regained her composure after several shaking breaths and tried to concentrate again on what she was seeing. A part of her – the rational, battle steady side of her psyche – told her that there was no chance he could have held up in the jetsam. The hopeful side of her tried to argue half heartedly, but Astrid was running low on hope.

She squinted her eyes together as a recollection of memories flooded back to her in an instant. It felt like an age ago since she had left that little piece of parchment on the soup pot for the chieftain back when she wasn't sure Hiccup was going to make it. It was so hard, trying to take a page from her own tumultuous saga, and have faith in a boy who seemed to survive by the skin of his teeth no matter what the Norns threw at him.

But when the hits kept on coming at shorter and shorter intervals, would he still be able to withstand them?

She sighed, sparing one of her hands to brush her bangs from her eyes. The sun was starting to dip low in the sky, and she suspected that they would only have a few hours left to search before they would have to fall back for the night. By that point, they would be even less likely to find him. By that point, the only thing they might find is a corpse.

Shuddering at the thought, she let her mind drift back to the fate of her own faithful dragon, and her heart ached again. She gnawed at the inside of her cheek anxiously. She should be looking for her too. After coughing a few times, she tugged her rough, flaking lips between her teeth and set her mind on finding a smudge of blue and yellow on the islands, if only to distract herself.

Toothless jerked roughly again, sending Astrid into another bout of wheezing, but the Night Fury didn't wait this time until she recovered. Her eyes watered as she was forced to compensate, and Toothless took off like a shot in the opposite direction from where they had come, his eyes drawn into slits.

She held on for dear life, half nauseous and half choking as the ebony dragon raced like a bat out of Hel towards nowhere in particular. If she could have been able to breathe, Astrid imagined she would have been screaming, but she was too busy suffocating to even think properly, let alone screech obscenities at the Night Fury carrying her as if she were nothing more than a sack.

He pitched violently to the left, and Astrid scrambled to keep her grasp on the weather beaten saddle. It was like he was following some sort of scent in the air, and Astrid would have asked him if she hadn't been so busy trying to catch her breath as well as adjusting the clutch in order to keep up with his constant changes in direction.

Toothless flattened his wings to his side, chasing after the faintest of trails hanging in tatters on the wind. He wasn't sure if it was tangible; for all he knew of his fast escaping sanity, he very well could have been imagining it.

But of this he was sure of – he had breathed her scent before.

* * *

Hiccup moaned, spurred roughly to semi-consciousness. Something had nudged him in the face, but he had forgotten about it before it even registered.

He was on his back, and he didn't have the strength to open his eyes. Vaguely, he realized that he could feel his legs again, but like all of his muddled thoughts before this, these observations were quickly lost to the recesses of his mind.

Again, something gently prodded him on the forehead, and this time Hiccup's addled mind took some time to focus of the unwelcome feeling. Had he been in a more or less stable frame of mind, he would have registered the moist gust of breath against his temple or the roughness of the object bumping against his salt ravaged skin. But now, as he lay there, still soaking and delirious, Hiccup catalogued none of these things save for the throbbing pain that had taken over his body.

Something stomped loudly beside his ear and he was jostled slightly more forcefully this time, driving his head to loll to one side. Hiccup moaned again, grimacing as the pain from the unnecessary movement shot down through his spine towards his toes. The jolt spurred a string of phantom pains that racked the rest of his calf muscle as well as the muscles of his upper leg and bright lights danced behind his eyelids. His frown turned into a pained cringe and he twitched in contortion before sagging inertly, falling back into the void of unconsciousness once more.

* * *

He awoke again to a furious flurry of movement and noises that didn't sound even remotely human to his groggy, addled mind. He hissed as the racket got louder in his ears, the clamour tinny and uncomfortable. He couldn't concentrate long enough on the sounds of his surroundings to properly absorb them.

He felt something warm on his face – possibly on his cheeks – before he heard the voice that accompanied the gentle touch. His bangs were pushed away from his eyes and something was combed through his matted hair before returning to his face. They started travelling down his neck, his shoulders, before burrowing beneath his arm pits and hoisting his upwards.

Hiccup groaned as the motion jarred what could have been his left arm, but the pain was so encompassing that he couldn't pinpoint the actual source. He was set down almost as fast as he was lifted, which only made his anguish all the more frustrating. He felt the telltale signs of oblivion coming at him and was more than willing to succumb to the nothingness when he was jolted from his reverie, awoken by the silken tone of a familiar party in his ear.

"Hiccup!"

He'd nearly forgotten his own name until she had spoken it, and he tried to open his eyes. He only managed to reply with a whimper as her lower arm snaked between the small of his back and the sodden ground, joining with her other appendage that was just barely grazing the tattered clothing on his abdomen.

She pulled him slowly, eventually tugging him up so that his head and shoulders were more or less resting in her lap. From there, she pulled him towards her until she had made it onto her knees, but by that time his saviour was coughing so violently that she had to let go of him. He landed with a thud and blacked out shortly after the impact, sprawled limply at her knees.

Astrid panicked and quickly turned towards Toothless for help. The Night Fury had finally gotten past the very same white dragon she had seen drawn in Hiccup's sketch book earlier that day, but she couldn't have cared less about whatever dragon politics the two were arguing over. Upon seeing Astrid's alarmed expression, the smaller of the two quarrelling dragons raced over and curled around his hatchling defensively, nearly pushing Astrid straight onto the ground in the process.

Scrambling to her feet, Astrid tried to think of ways to make herself useful. She was feeling worse and worse by the minute and the sun was beginning to disappear, but at that moment she realized that she had to make a fire. Weakly, she unhooked her axe from her back and let it fall to the ground, rather than wasting energy on catching it and swinging it up around. She picked it up off of the sand and made her way towards the small forest behind her at once.

She felled two of the smaller trees and went to try and haul them back towards their makeshift encampment when an unfamiliar but instantly recognizable basic brown trotted up beside her and began to pull the fallen tree with his teeth. Surprised, but adapting quickly, Astrid started dragging the other shaft with considerably more difficulty until the russet coloured dragon came and took over.

Breathing heavily, Astrid caught up with the baby that she had seen in Hiccup's portraits, but didn't dwell too long on its appearance. She started to hack away at the trunk in order to make the wood smaller, and from the corner of her eye she could see that the younger dragon was doing the same by trouncing on the lumber with its forepaws. Eventually, and after several seemingly unrelenting coughing fits, Astrid managed to make the foundations of a fire to which the basic brown was more than eager to light.

As the fire continued to spread, Toothless rose from his protective crouch and beckoned Astrid over with a cock of his head. She complied without even thinking and together, they managed to drag Hiccup towards the fire without causing him too much obvious torture. Astrid immediately started stripping him of his tattered, damp clothing and threw it all into a pile before replacing it with some of her own. She shivered, but didn't otherwise show any signs of discomfort as she pushed herself up again in order to drive a few branches into the ground so that his clothes had something to dry on.

The snow dragoness had been watching from afar the entire time, unsure as to whether she should have interfered or not. The Night Fury wasn't willing to delve into details and her adopted hatchling had taken in upon himself to go and help in any way that he could. Admittedly, she was a sympathetic creature, but she was also old enough to know her place. She settled herself onto her belly and simply watched as the events before her unfolded.

She had felt the change in the winds when the creature had fallen and she wasn't sure how exactly the equilibrium would change, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that the pair, as well as their newest addition, had inadvertently released a hundred new problems with every intention of solving one. After all, how could something _not _happen after the defeat of a creature that had been lurking in the seas since the very dawning of time?

She placed her head on her paws, realizing that she and her hatchling would have to leave immediately if they wanted to get out before all Hel broke loose.

* * *

Thank you for reading! I hoped you enjoyed the chapter as well as the very omnious ending! Think of it this way; at least it wasn't a cliffhanger!

Thank you Sir Nick!

First off, if you haven't already checked it out, I released a series of drabbles the other day titled _**Shuffle, Shake and Shimmy**_ since they were based on my iTunes shuffle. Leave me a review if you enjoyed them and let me know if you'd like to see any of them expanded - I might just consider it :)

Secondly, httyd-fanarts on deviantArt is having a bidding contest and I'm currently the highest bid author so far for a one-shot of the bidder's choice. Check it out if you're interested in bidding on any of the amazing artists feautured; there is only a few days left!

Lastly, I'm slowly starting to get all of my stories up onto dA. At this point I have totally resigned myself to the fact that while I have a grasp more or less on drawing, I am the worst at colouring in the history of colouring. I can't colour with pencil crayons, I can't colour with charcoal and digital painting is the bane of my existance. So, I was wondering: do any of you use Gimp as a way to colour digitally? If so, do you have any tips that you could offer me? I really want to get better but, unlike writing, art isn't something I'm naturally good at!

See you all in 2012! We're almost at the conclusion of _**Horizons**_! Can you believe it?

Brontë


	25. We Are Skuld VII

_Should you take to the horizon,  
Where beginning meets the end...  
_

* * *

**HORIZONS**

_**Arc III : We Are Skuld  
**_

**_Chapter VII_**

* * *

A day passed.

Astrid dug Hiccup's dagger into the mostly frozen ground and stared blankly at the metal as the blade toppled over, falling onto the soil with a dull thud.

She blinked. Dusk was falling.

She followed the shadow of the hilt of the knife eastward with her eyes and glanced over at the dying embers of their pathetic excuse for a knew she should have gotten up to stoke it, but she was just too cold to move or care.

She coughed loudly. Toothless' huddled form winced slightly at the sound.

The two dragons had disappeared sometime during the middle of the night after Astrid had finally managed to pass out, and she couldn't help but feel somewhat slighted by their sudden desertion. After all, if she had stumbled upon another human in need on this Thor-forsaken misadventure, she knew that she would have gone out of her way to see if there was anything she could do to help. Their lack of compassion had been a constant source of her annoyance since she had first woken up.

She picked up the dagger and squeezed the handle, digging her nails into the leather bindings of the hilt; that snow dragon hadn't done a thing to help Hiccup, or even Toothless for that matter. Astrid gritted her teeth as she slammed the dagger back into the hard earth with enough force to make it stand on its own, seething as she remembered how the female did nothing but watch as if it were some sort of spectacle. She supposed she could excuse the little mangy one considering the fact that it had tried to lend a hand, but that was beside the point – they were still beyond reprieve. In her culture, one did not simply abandon those in need.

The anger running through her veins did nothing to warm her and Astrid resigned herself to the fact that if she did not get up and add some extra kindling to the fire, the three of them would probably freeze to death. She pushed herself to her feet and threw the last of the felled wood onto the fire before slumping against Toothless' back and bowing her head.

She steeled herself against the gusts of cold air coming from the coast and pulled her hood up tightly around her head. Her palm brushed against her headband as she adjusted the woolen trim and she breathed out quietly, hooking her gloved fingers around the worn strip of embellished leather.

The headband reminded her of another life, of another, more simple world. She wondered, would she ever get back to Berk at this rate? How far across the ocean were they? How long would it take to get back home? They had never made it to the end of the world, but Astrid suspected that there never really was any sort of abrupt end to begin with. She wondered if there really was a cavernous waterfall that plunged into the very bowels of the underworld, towards the dwellings of Loki's only daughter Hel. She mused that perhaps there was no passage to the underworld, or even Asgard for that matter, after all. Astrid didn't consider herself to be much of an intellectual, but she had a feeling that if they kept on flying westward long enough, they would continue to find only ocean and land for as far as the eye could see.

Her hands fell from her headband and dropped limply onto her lap, half frozen from the cold. She supposed she was more or less used to the gnawing chill in her bones by now and wondered absently when the last time had been since she had been warm and comfortable. She tried to remember what it felt like.

She shivered.

Briefly, she tried to remember the taste of lamb.

She yawned before closing her eyes and shifting slightly in an attempt to get comfortable, wincing as she went. This was a difficult feat to accomplish since she was sitting squarely on the hard soil with her back pressing awkwardly against the sharp, pointed scales of her draconic companion, but it was better than lying on the cold, sodden ground. She tried to remind herself that this kind of physical discomfort was nothing new to her, but she still longed for the comfort of her sleeping furs, now lost in the depths of the ocean.

Slowly, she sunk into a light slumber.

* * *

Hiccup returned to consciousness at some point during the course of the next morning, and the early dawn light blinded him as he tried to open his eyes. His head was propped against something soft and although his limbs felt sluggish and sore, he was surprisingly comfortable. He shifted his body slightly and noticed that his prosthetic wasn't attached to his severed leg, but the fact of the matter didn't bother him nearly as much as he would have expected. Something niggled at the back of his mind, a reminder of something that had to do with the amputation, but his thoughts were too foggy to make out what it was.

He felt a rush of hot breath against his face and quickly recognized it for what it was. He'd woken up to the dank smell of fermenting fish before, and smiled faintly as he tried to open his eyes again. The blurry form of Toothless standing over top of him slowly came into focus and Hiccup tried to say something, but his throat felt like he had swallowed nothing but salt water for days.

Within seconds he had a cup of water at his lips. He drank the contents of it greedily, practically drowning himself in his attempt. Once he had drunk his fill, he vaguely became aware of his surroundings.

He was sprawled out on his back, and he immediately spotted his prosthetic resting a few arms lengths away. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and turned his head upwards, drinking in a familiar and welcome sight.

"Morning."

* * *

Hiccup rolled the kinks from his shoulders, amazed that he could even move. All in all, he was surprised that he was even still alive.

Astrid, in her own clipped and impassive way, had described more or less what had happened shortly after he had awakened earlier that morning. He knew, though, that she was leaving certain parts of the story blank, but whether it was for her benefit or his own, he couldn't tell.

She hadn't mentioned a word about her own dragon either, but he didn't have to be a genius to guess as to what had happened to the blue and yellow Nadder after she had taken a hit from Jormungand; moreover, she also hadn't said anything about herself or how she was faring since he had woken. He had tried to voice something when she burst into the most violent coughing fit he had ever witnessed, but the loathing stare she had given him kept him frozen in his place. Glancing over at Toothless, Hiccup noticed the same feeble, pitying expression the dragon had often offered him colouring his features, only this time it was directed at Astrid. The Night Fury obviously knew something he didn't – he could tell by the way the dragon refused to look him in the eye every time Astrid started into one of her convulsions.

Eventually she became frustrated with his staring and left under the guise of going to fill their only water skin in the little fresh water pond she had found on the other side of the island. He let her leave without saying anything, but the detached change in her demeanor left him feeling somewhat empty and confused.

He turned and glanced solemnly at his stub, noting the prosthetic to the right in his peripheral vision. She must have taken it off when she had found him, he gathered, and he realized that he wasn't nearly as self-conscious about it as he would have thought he would be. Perhaps he was still adjusting to the fiasco, the complete and utter insanity of it…he wasn't sure how else to describe it. He still couldn't come to terms with it. He couldn't believe it.

He'd finally managed to beat something all on his own, which was nice, he supposed. He'd killed a giant mythical snake single-handedly, which deserved some sort of recognition in its own right. He wondered if anyone would believe him.

He looked down at his body then, noting with unusual vacancy the various bandages covering his skin. Astrid must have dressed his wounds. He'd have to thank her sometime.

Toothless kept a wary eye on his hatchling, just waiting for him to fly off of the deep end. Any minute, the dragon realized, the whole debacle would sink in and his abnormal calmness would collapse into a heap of hysterics. He'd seen this side of him before; it had taken two days for his hatchling's mind to break after waking up from their first heroic deed, and the result of that had led them inevitably here. Toothless heaved a substantial sigh and stretched his legs from his prone position, fearing the worst.

Hiccup still had that blank expression on his face when Astrid returned from her trek across the island a half an hour later and the young shieldmaiden simply couldn't help but want to start yelling and crying and just smack it off of his face. He was obviously in some sort of stunned stupor and it annoyed her because she wasn't, and he wasn't any use to her if he was being catatonic – he might as well still be asleep!

Astrid halted mid step and spun around on her heel, retreating in the direction she had just come from.

Breaking in a run, Astrid tried to calm the strongest upsurge of emotions she had ever felt in her life. She couldn't let anyone see her like this; she had to be strong. But the barrier had finally broken over top of her head and was threatening to drown her as she tripped over an upturned root and collapsed face first onto the snow, crying and coughing and choking for air. Why did everything have to be this hard? Why did her dragon have to go and die? Why did Hiccup have to be so calm to it all when she was so clearly suffering?

Why was she being _so_ _damned selfish_?

She stayed like that, weeping for what seemed like hours. She didn't want to move. She thought about how much of a coward she was. It was overwhelming.

She continued to cry.

* * *

When dusk fell and Astrid still hadn't returned, Toothless knew it was time to go fetch her. Like his hatchling, he figured she had had enough time to adjust. He nudged her with his nose until she finally reacted, and it took another five minutes to get her onto her feet so that she could follow him back to their camp. He dumped her on the other side of the fire and frowned at the two human hatchlings, unsure of how to proceed.

He thought back to a point in time when he had been a hatchling himself, tied with close bonds to his brethren. A shot panged through his chest when he remembered how long ago his memories spanned back, and he tried to smother the pain as quickly as he could before it could spread. He brought his thoughts back to the present, cementing himself in the knowledge that he was the only sentient being of any use out of the three, considering the humans were mentally out for the count.

They both looked so…traumatized.

His mind reeled back to the time when he had been separated – _banished_ – from his brethren after being sucked into the grasps of the Red Death. He tried to remember how he had felt, how he had gotten over it. The memories were inherently blurry; his imprisonment had turned him into an impassive, listless slave and he realized that his grieving period had been practically non-existent.

The truth burned in his throat as his gaze flitted in between the pair. He couldn't relate with them, not really. The only thing they could do was put it behind them and move on.

With another heavy sigh, the dragon went about collecting their things into a pile.

* * *

Toothless nudged Astrid as the last of the dying rays sunk below the horizon, waking her from her restless sleep. She was shivering, half alive and miserable and resentful and frustrated with everything as she pulled herself to her feet and gazed listlessly at her counterpart curled into a ball across from her. Frowning, she stoked their measly excuse for a fire and literally stepped over it to get to the other side, where she intended to wake Hiccup.

He jerked violently as she touched his shoulder, lashing out against his perceived enemy and accidently swiping her across the face. She stepped back and recoiled, holding her cheek in her palms as she cried out accusingly. He pulled himself upright at the pitchy sound and took in her hunched figure as she glared, her mood turned acidic.

"Watch it would you?" she exclaimed, checking the fabric of her mittens for blood. Hiccup eyed the angry red line against her cheek for a moment before the sting of her words sunk in.

"Wait, what?" he hissed, disbelief colouring his voice as he got to his knees; his prosthetic was lying just out of his reach.

"You just hit me!" she shouted, throwing her hands around as she accentuated every syllable.

"Like I meant it," he spat, his anger beginning to come to a simmer beneath the surface. She'd been nothing but aloof, impassive and cold ever since he had woken up from this mess. Just once, he'd like a little damned support, especially after what he had just put himself through—

She forcefully cut off his line of thought, "Just shut up!"

"Shut up?" the incredulity was obvious in the way he squinted at her reprovingly, holding his palms upturned in irate confusion.

"Yes! No one gets your stupid sarcasm!"

"In case you haven't noticed," he grinded out, trying to keep his voice even, "We're the only ones out here."

"It doesn't matter!" she sputtered as she stomped her foot, the past few days boiling over until she was drowning in it, "I don't care what you think! If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be out here right now!"

"I didn't ask you to follow me!" he shouted suddenly, balling his fists at his sides. He desperately wished that his means of walking wasn't so far away; he would have liked to have been able to tower over her, intimidate her.

"You left me no choice!"

"How does that make any sense Astrid?"

"You were going to get yourself killed!"

"No I wasn't!"

"Yes you were!"

"I had everything under control until you showed up!"

"I'm sorry, pardon?" she shrieked, "If it weren't for me, you would be digesting in that stupid creature's stomach right now!"

"I could have handled it without you," he hissed, his green eyes filled with steel. She shrunk away slightly at his frighteningly cold gaze as it bore holes through her, but she didn't back down.

"Barely. I'm surprised you survived long enough for me to catch you."

"What are you implying?" his voice raised in pitches now, his vehemence so potent it was blistering.

"You're…you're…" the words died in her throat as his gaze darkened. He had told her about his insecurities, his lack of self-confidence, his self-doubt, his pain, and she had almost taken advantage of his trust. She had nearly accused him of the very thing he had been called all his life.

She didn't have to say it though. Hiccup didn't see the flitting of regretful emotions crossing her face as he fumed, the repressed emotions he'd held back his entire life bubbling to the surface in a violent surge. He pushed himself to his feet and used the only object within arm's reach to steady him.

Toothless wanted nothing to do with either of them as the two hatchlings screamed at each other, but suddenly he was being shoved in the middle as Hiccup gripped one of his dorsal fins to steady himself. He tried to turn away as best he could, pressing his ear plates as flat as possible to muffle out the sounds.

"Astrid."

Her eyes widened as the rough baritone of his voice shook her out of her reverie. His entire body stiffened and hunched; his shoulders curled inwards. His eyes turned so dark that she no longer recognized his emerald green gaze. When he went to speak, he turned towards her, advancing slowly until he finally met her gaze.

"Finish your sentence."

His voice was dangerously low. She couldn't say that she'd ever been afraid of Hiccup, but she was then.

"Hiccup, I…I didn't mean that—"

He cut her off ruthlessly, "Finish your sentence."

He stared, his eyes never wavering. Like a statue, motionless. She shivered.

"You're…you're…"

"Say it."

She closed her eyes, exhaustion taking over as her anger began to ebb, "I can't."

"Clearly," he hobbled forwards, his glare never straying from her features, "But I know what you were going to say. Isn't it obvious?" he threw his hands skyward, "For years I was nothing but the laughing stock of Berk. Useless. An embarrassment. My father hated me. My tribe's people shunned me. And that was when I had my leg."

"And then I saved my tribe. I saved our people. And yet here I am again, still completely, _utterly_ useless. I can't even stand up on my own!" he spat, clenching the fist of his free arm repetitively, "I didn't choose to be this way. I didn't choose to be my father's son. I didn't choose to be the one responsible for killing the Red Death. And yet here. I. Am!"

He threw his hand down forcefully, burdened with frustration, "I had to leave. I had to distance myself from everyone else...and here you are, the one person who I thought could understand what I went through, what I'm still going through!" he snarled, "Well, turns out I was wrong about you. I was stupid to miss you, to fool myself into thinking you actually cared."

She bristled at the attack and folded her arms tightly across her chest, "I wouldn't even be out here if I didn't care!"

Hiccup brushed off her rebuttal, "The only thing you care about is the glory of it all! You're so self righteous all the time! You think that you're so much better than everybody else!" he drew his fist back to his side, throwing his head in frustration, "Just once, I'd like you to feel the way I do sometimes!"

"What makes you think I don't feel like I'm worth anything sometimes? Maybe I just handle myself differently than you do!"

He snorted, "That's unlikely."

"How do you know? Just because you had it tough doesn't mean other people don't have problems too. I understand that you had a terrible childhood, I get that, but mine wasn't exactly peaches and cream either!"

A glimpse of familiarity flickered over his face before returning to its stony state, "You had two parents and siblings to back you up. I had nothing."

"You had silence!" she cried, squeezing her eyes shut, "My parents fought all the time until they were blue in the face. They still do! Do you know what it's like to hear your parents tell each other that they hate each other every single day?"

Hiccup didn't reply right away, "Sometimes silence is worse. Living under the pressure of disappointed glares isn't exactly a walk through the village."

Astrid pursed her lips, acknowledging that this conversation wasn't going anywhere, "I'm not going to argue with you about who had the worst childhood. What matters is now. You and I are here. And I still don't understand why you just up and left as if no one cared, when clearly we all did."

He frowned, letting the topic slide for the meantime, "There was no point in staying."

"Why?"

"One day I'd be nothing but a useless runt again. One day, someone would understand dragons more, and I would be obsolete. I was better off gone, before I could know what it's like to…"

She silently beckoned him to continue, but he refused to open his mouth again. He hobbled over to his prosthetic and started strapping it on with vehemence, no longer caring if Astrid saw the raw red stump as he shoved it into the support.

She watched in agonizing limbo as he tore at the belts, wrenching them around his skin with that frightening look still in his eyes.

There was a thick, viscous silence.

The pain in his body was excruciating as he pulled himself upright, having finished tightening the prosthetic to his amputated limb. His breath shook in his lungs as he started to limp around their camp, picking up one of the saddlebags in his arms. He winced, but didn't otherwise betray the agony he felt across his stony expression as he brought it to Toothless, strapping it on as each movement sent shooting pains down every nerve ending in his body.

She grabbed the other one but was unable to ignore the stiff way he carried himself. She knew he was in pain; she was too, but his body had undergone far worse treatment than hers. His skin was littered with injuries, having been washed up on the rocky coast after Loki knows how long. His shoulder had been dislocated when she had found him, and he had been lucky enough to be blissfully unconscious when she had shoved it back in. She had splinted two of his fingers, and the cut across his neck, collarbone and shoulder wasn't healing as fast as she had hoped it would. The sea water had probably been the only thing that had kept him alive.

She caught a fleeting glimpse of his stormy expression, and she could tell that he was still furious. It was becoming harder and harder to keep her tongue in check, to keep herself from breaking the wretched silence. So many words were crawling up her throat, scraping at the backs of her teeth just begging to be released. She only meant to take a deep breath, but the complaint simply passed through her lips on its own accord.

"Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

She clamped her lips together immediately, but it was already too late. He stiffened and refused to look up as he viciously tied the leather straps to Toothless' saddle.

"I'm not like you Astrid."

She frowned, her fingers faltering, "Obviously."

He glanced up at her, his gaze both resentful and beseeching, "I can't walk around like I don't bleed, like everything is fine. You think you're so above it all, and it annoys me. I just nearly died, again, and you're acting like the only thing that matters is yourself. Once, just once, I would like someone to remember that I have feelings too."

She pursed her lips and tried to quell the surge of anger that was swelling from inside of her. How dare he accuse her of not caring, of not having feelings? She curled her fingers into fists and closed her eyes, willing her breath to even out; enough damage had been done at her hands already.

"I have feelings," she spat, keeping her voice low. He didn't watch her as she finished tying the bag onto the leather and pressed her hands against Toothless' side, thankful for the barrier between them, "I do what I have to do. And if I have to pretend like I don't have a heart just to accomplish something important, then I'll do it."

"Sounds like you're just afraid to say the truth."

He declared this offhandedly as he disappeared below Toothless in order to finish binding the rest of his tack, but the unspoken accusation of cowardliness resounded silently between them. Astrid froze. Her heart seized like a shard of glass in her chest.

"I'm not a coward," her trembling voice belied her statement.

Hiccup glanced up, a reaction finally staining his features. He straightened, barely suppressing a hiss of pain as he did so, and watched as Astrid's face drained of its colour. Her eyes were sunken and glazed and his heart panged traitorously in his chest for causing her more needless distress.

Her hands quaked as she took an unsteady step backwards, her gaze unfocused. She ached to say something to alter his statement, to change his perception. Her mind was racing; _adapt yourself to your surroundings – be the woman you have to be_.

She screwed her face up as she tried to ignore the steely, battle-ready voice in her head. For so long, she'd been simply changing herself for the needs of others, whether it was her parents, her peers, Hiccup. Couldn't she just be herself for once? No, she couldn't reveal her weakness. No. Yes! She knotted her fingers in her disheveled braid, tugging roughly. She was not a coward. She was not a coward!

"You promised me you would never die," her voice was so incredibly quiet that he could barely hear it; even Toothless had to flick his ears.

"But—"

"Just shut up," she cut him off, raising a quivering hand in protest, "Let me talk."

He nodded once, waiting.

"You promised me you would never die, and then you just left. You left me!" she started to rub her arms unconsciously, her shivers increasing in intensity, "And when you left, I realized what was wrong. You…you make me feel too much!"

She hunched in on herself, shaking her head, "I went after you for two reasons. One was because I didn't want you to die. I wanted to find you and bring you home…" her breath rattled in her chest as she tried to keep from coughing, "And then you disappeared and I thought…I thought you were gone!" she looked up at him, her eyes pleading, "Don't you understand?"

Tears were beginning to form beneath her eyes, and this was honestly one of the first times he had ever seen her so overcome. He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her – to kiss her – but he repressed the urges and simply stared.

"What was the second reason?" he ground out, his emotions suddenly getting the best of him.

She stiffened again and, before he could comprehend what was happening, she stomped towards him and stopped a hair's breath away. He gasped instinctively at the sudden intimacy but didn't move as she steeled her shoulders and glared at his chest.

"I…I don't know how to say it."

The icy façade broke as she gazed up at him, and that profound feeling in his chest expanded threefold as she clenched her hands, fighting against the ceaseless urge to run. She had gone too far, stepped too deep, treading water in an endless ocean. There was no horizon in these dark waters; she couldn't escape this any longer.

She gripped him by the collar of his coat and dragged him downwards, capturing his lips in hers, crushing him. Her lips bruised as he clutched to her waist desperately, holding her so tightly that the air was practically crushed from their lungs, hard enough to blister.

He responded with equal force, the fury and the rage and the blood boiling passion translating into their lover's punctuation. His mouth was burning against hers, her sharp teeth battling for dominance. She buried her fingers in the roots of his matted hair at the base of his neck and tugged roughly, desperate for a reaction. He groaned in pain and retaliated, scrapping his fingernails against the slivers of exposed flesh around her hips, and she cried into his mouth.

He yanked his lips away and she trembled. Her body was pinned against him and his arm was rubbing against the cut on her bicep but she couldn't bring herself to move, to respond.

They were so lost in one another that they didn't hear the padded footsteps creeping up behind them, but Toothless did, and he turned his head just in time to notice the huge red eyes reflecting in the moonlight.

Hiccup, sensing his dragon's sudden panic without having seen it, tightened his grip on Astrid's waist with impossible strength and hauled her onto Toothless' back. He leapt on behind her and screamed for her to go, having caught a glimpse of the creature launching out of the shadowy forest towards them.

She folded herself in half instinctively and pressed down on the stirrup as hard as she could, perfectly synchronised as Toothless launched himself into the sky with a cry. They narrowly avoided the boulder sized claw that swiped at them during their retreat and Hiccup kept one hand clutched to Astrid's waist and grasped the handles of the saddle with the other, pressing his body into hers as they ascended as fast as they possibly could.

The wolf threw its head back and howled.

* * *

They were just coming in for a landing as the sun rose, having been surrounded by nothing but endless water for what seemed like hours.

They hadn't said a word the entire time.

Hiccup had eventually gotten his prosthetic attached to the stirrup, but Astrid remained in front. He never let go of her the entire time.

They found a cave near the middle of the island and started a fire inside, Astrid collecting wood while Hiccup tended to the damp logs. She returned with the last load, piling them to the side before pressing a hand against the cold wall of rock, steeling herself. She turned around and found herself being pushed into the wall, dark green eyes seeking solace in her blue ones.

His fingers combed through her hair, catching in the embellished leather of her headband. She helped him toss it away.

* * *

Toothless opened his eyes slowly, watching with a blank expression as the two humans slept side by side a few feet in front of him. He couldn't understand what had driven them together at that moment, and he didn't try to make sense of it for very long. There were far more important things to attend to, including the newest turn of events. What mattered was that they were being hunted.

Again.

A tremor of apprehension ran through him like a knife; he no longer tried to suppress the raw fear as he attempted to listen to his surroundings above his hatchling's soft snores. He couldn't feel any vibrations in the earth, but then again, he hadn't felt any on the last island either. The enormous wolf seemed to have simply materialized out of thin air, and that had been what Toothless was mostly afraid of.

What is their tryst with Jormungand hadn't been the end? What if…what if it had merely been the beginning?

Toothless rested his head back down on his paws and tried to convince himself that going back to sleep would make everything better.

He stayed awake for the rest of the night

* * *

They started heading east the very next day.

It was had been a unanimous, unspoken understanding between them as the weather started getting slightly milder. Hiccup figured that they were nearing the spring equinox, although it was hard to tell after losing track of the days since he'd crash landed on Greonland, and travelling at night wasn't helping his case in tracking the sun's movements either. It felt as if they had been out there for years, when in all honesty, Hiccup guessed it was only a few months. But these months had irreversibly transformed the three of them forever, in ways they had yet to even acknowledge.

His reoccurring dreams never went away as they continued their trek back towards their homeland, and he started kidding himself into believing that it all had been an elaborate hallucination. It had seemed so real though, and a little part of him kept holding out that whatever he had seen and heard and _felt_ had been true.

"_So what,"_ she had said, _"You're different! Does that make you any less of a hero?"_

He rolled over, his limbs tangled with Astrid's and he curled a finger around a lock of her hair. He let it tumble lightly back onto her shoulder so he could pick it back up again, performing the same gentle routine over and over. He finally knew how her hair would feel between his fingers and fought the urge to smile, still dazed by the chain of events that had inevitably led to the woman sprawled languidly in his arms.

Things had irrevocably changed, but whether it was for better or for worse…

Well, he wasn't sure yet.

Clearly, they weren't free of peril quite yet if the gigantic Hel hound that had tried to take a bite out of them was any indication. Trouble seemed to follow him like a plague, and if he hadn't been so used to the perpetual misfortune hanging over him like a cloud he probably would have been more worried right then.

But that, of course, had been his first mistake.

A week later, as they neared the western coast of Greonland, they landed on one of the largest islands they had encountered so far. A seemingly dormant volcano loomed over them like a jotunn on the east side of the islet, and the trio decided to take refuge in a cave at the foot of the mountain. They remained there for a few days as they stocked up on food and whatever else they could salvage.

The occasional tremors in the earth should have been their first hint, but even Toothless couldn't have predicted what happened next as the island suddenly began to crumble around them and the ground split into two. Astrid barely managed to drag Hiccup out of harm's way before a huge abyss appeared before them, swallowing up the trees and sand as a surge of gaseous steam rose up from the depths. Astrid hauled Hiccup to his feet and kept her fingers clasped around his belt as he desperately tried to keep his balance. The other side of the crack was being shoved skywards, and the bedrock screeched and shrieked under the tremendous pressure.

"TOOTHLESS!" Hiccup cried above the bedlam but he could already sense that the dragon was about to jump down to them from the other side of the fissure. Pushing against her side with his hip, Hiccup started running towards the coast line, knowing Toothless would be following close behind, and they would have to escape the immediate wrath of the hissing volcano if they wanted to leave this island with all of their limbs intact. The two of them stumbled every few steps, but every scrape and cut they amassed no longer seemed to matter as steaming chunks of rock and pumice started raining down on them from all sides, barring them from their initial path to the sea.

Toothless caught up with them within moments and tossed the two onto his back with his jaws, barely hesitating for Astrid to get her hand on the pedal before launching himself into the air. A hunk of lava just missed Hiccup's head by inches as Toothless spiralled upwards into the sky, steering clear of the spitting volcano as it continued to erupt. It was only when they were a safe distance away that Hiccup locked his prosthetic into the stirrup and looked on behind him, perplexed as the volcano seemed to quiet as if it hadn't erupted at all.

* * *

One of the worst storms either of them had encountered thus far on their adventure left them stranded on the coast of Groenland for nearly a week and a half. Astrid forbade Hiccup from leaving the cave, going so far as to remove his prosthetic and take it with her; her actions, despite her good intentions, made him feel just as inadequate as ever.

Toothless insisted on following her into the storm each time she left to find food and water, if only to provide him with some peace of mind and some relief from Hiccup's cabin fever. And even though he would never truly admit it, the female human was beginning to grow on him.

Her complacent aura and her increasingly grating obstinacy was difficult to adjust to at first, but she, in a roundabout kind of way, kind of reminded him of the young females that had been in his brethren ages ago. They were haughty, rarely humble, and that was a trait to be admired in a female of his species. The more he thought about it, the more the similarities became strikingly comparable.

He glanced over at Astrid as she stalked through the snow dunes silently, her eyes trained on an elk through the cover of the firs. He'd resigned himself to the fact that he would never see his brethren again, and that he had been accepted into a new one now. But could she, a female that so clearly reminded him of the dragoness' of his early adulthood, fit into his makeshift family?

She sent him a deadly smirk that clearly spoke to how much enjoyment she got out of the chase. He swallowed and nodded once in agreement before they staged their attack.

When they hauled their impressive catch back to the cave a few hours later, Toothless had conceded. She would make a good addition to their team.

* * *

She threw her runes one more time, if only to reassure herself that she was seeing things in her old age. She tried convincing herself that her eyes were failing her, but as she peered back down at the same three reversed symbols…there was absolutely no way.

A rumble of thunder passed overhead, and a flash of lightning to the west quickly erased any doubt from her mind.

This…this was not good.

Gothi collected the runes from the table and placed them back into the skin bag, tapping the tips of her gnarled fingers against the wood. After a moment of deep thought, she placed them aside and walked over to the cupboard in the far corner, her cane rapping against the worn hardwood in time with the pounding of the unseasonal rain against the windowpanes. Swallowing her impending dread, she pulled a stone bowl from the shelf and peered inside of it, assuring herself it was clean. She ran a cloth down the sides once she brought it back to the table anyway, just to make sure.

She then trudged over to the other side of the room and took a vial of lamb's blood between her fingers. She shook it three times and placed it beside the bowl, lighting another candle.

She began reciting a prayer to Frigga, asking for her good graces. Then, she removed the plug from the flask and poured it into the stone bowl, summoning Skuld and her divine knowledge of the future. She stirred the vessel three times in both directions before setting it back down and lightning another candle, holding it up to see.

It only took a few minutes to read the prophecy, but that was long enough. Her questions finally had answers, but they failed to bring her any sort of respite. She set the bowl down and sat upon her stool, taking a dulled piece of charcoal in her hands. She glanced down at the parchment, and started writing.

_And whilst the nine worlds held their breath,_

_Two brothers, vanquishers of death;_

_Into the deadly pit of favour_

_They have fallen with the gods._

_Gone is the terror of the sea,_

_But note that one and two make three;_

_Be naught but wary of the trickster,_

_Of the father of fa__ç__ades._

There was another staccato clap of thunder above the island as Gothi stared down at the divination she had just prophesized.

This…this was even worse.

* * *

They had taken their time, but once they passed over the tumultuous currents of Jormungand – if they could even be called that now – they knew they were almost home. Hiccup had started recording the days out of boredom while they were still marooned on Greonland, and just over a month had passed since he began.

The closer they loomed to their eventual destination, the more he thought about how things had changed. He wondered what he would say to his father, and how the chieftain would react, how Gobber would react. What would the rest of the inhabitants say when they saw him return with Astrid clinging to his shoulders, looking decidedly worse for wear. He couldn't stop himself from imagining the worst case scenarios; he kept seeing Mrs. Hofferson coming at him with a knife.

All kidding aside though, it was safe to say that he was still kind of frightened. By trying to ignore the fact that something out there was once again trying to kill him, he had been distracting himself pretty well with the fact that he'd soon be living with a roof over his head. He'd have to go back to the forge and scrub the floors and wake up every morning to the same rafters he'd been waking up to since he could remember.

All in all, it seemed a little mundane.

For so long, he'd been living day to day just to survive. He had kind of gotten used to the impulse of it; he never knew when some evil creature would decide that it was going to try to kill him or when a volcano was going to spontaneously explode. He grinned wryly the more he thought about it – clearly, he was a glutton for punishment.

He tried to smother the thoughts of some of the other things he would be forced to do once he returned home, namely taking over being the chieftain in training. Considering his apprehension concerning the tribe that, for the most part of his life, detested him, he was a little hesitant to try and do his father's job. Back in the fall, he hadn't thought he would ever return to take back his responsibility as the Haddock heir. But things were in a constant state of adjustment lately, and the past really didn't matter anymore.

He thought back to a time when Astrid had been curled up beside him, nearly asleep, when she had told him to stop living in the past. Sitting there now, he realized that she had a point; maybe he was being a little melodramatic.

Astrid tightened her grip on Hiccup's waist and rested her chin on his shoulder, smiling lightly. They were so close she could practically taste it. They were almost home.

Hiccup angled his head just enough to meet her gaze before turning back forward, keeping an eye to the east. He wondered about how their relationship would change once they returned; they had broken so many traditions and taboos already. That, and they were so clearly incompatible for each other it was almost bizarre, and they were constantly at each other's throats like rabid cats and dogs. But he supposed it was worth it; if anything, she could provide him with that impulsiveness that he was already beginning to miss.

Hiccup glanced behind him, noticing the dark clouds following them in from the west. He swallowed the growing sensation of anxiety in his gut and refocused again on the skyline, squaring his shoulders when the outline of Raven's Point could be distinguished from the horizon.

He heard her gasp from behind him. He grinned.

And on the wings of flight, Hiccup knew he was home.

* * *

_**FIN.**_

* * *

I can't believe it. I'm in a state of shock.

Horizons is over! And what an amazing ride it has been! Thank you so much to Sir Nick, who has been a faithful beta, and Leon Woon, who had to stand in a few months ago. Thank you to those of you who favourited and alerted, and even though I never heard from you, it's nice to know that you care. Thank you to the people that recognized me and my stories on deviantArt, tumblr, and other blogs. And thank you to those of you that helped me with research, because as you know, I put a great deal of mythology into this saga.

Finally, I want to send out a HUGE thank you to my reviewers. Without you, this story would not be posted. It would have stayed in my journal, partially in French. Because of you, I'm kind of a big deal. Because of you, I experienced such an awesome level of kindness and criticism and love and I can't thank you enough! You people are amazing for sticking with me throughout this entire saga, and don't ever forget it!

Already, I've had people begging me to write a sequel but...I won't do it unless a crazy amount of people hound me down and bother me with reviews and messages. Only then will I consider. But for now, I hope you enjoyed the open ending and I hope to hear your thoughts of it in a review. If you have any questions that you think I left unsaid, make sure you ask as well!

It's been three years of absolute joy writing this saga and I hope you'll continue to read what I have to offer.

Brontë


	26. Rising Sun

_And whilst the nine worlds held their breath,_

_Two brothers, vanquishers of death;_

_Into the deadly pit of favour_

_They have fallen with the gods._

_Gone is the terror of the sea,_

_But note that one and two make three;_

_Be naught but wary of the trickster,_

_Of the father of fa__ç__ades._

* * *

The next installment to **The Horizons Saga** : May 20th

A storm is brewing.


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